


Gravity

by kogamis



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, takes place after 2015 pp movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 53,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22343086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kogamis/pseuds/kogamis
Summary: A much-needed vacation takes Akane Tsunemori to the mountains of Spain, and along with her comes a secret too heavy to bear on her own.sexual content in chapter 4
Relationships: Kougami Shinya/Tsunemori Akane
Comments: 64
Kudos: 282





	1. Polarity

**Prologue**

The middle of October is a rather unconventional time to take a vacation, but Akane Tsunemori finds that she often deviates from what is considered to be conventional.

Her unique hairstyle of choice displays that message most clearly. A short pixie cut with straight-across bangs is rather uncommon, especially for women her age, but it suits her slender build and unexpected personality. She lets the sides of her bangs grow just long enough to gently frame her face, and in the wind that greets her as she steps through the terminal doors, the delicate tufts tickle her cheeks, almost as if to welcome her.

She knows very well how unusual it is to travel overseas. Back in the days before the structural collapse of global relations, taking a vacation was an activity sought after by many people. It was not uncommon to travel internationally, to visit new countries and experience what different cultures had to offer. There were many proven benefits from taking long stretches of breaks away from everyday life, one of them in particular being an expensive form of stress relief. 

Nowadays, it is less common to require such a thing. Japan's society has evolved to promote and facilitate the least stressful environment possible for its participants, and by consequence, the concept of taking vacations became filtered out. Now it is reserved as a luxury for those with upper class social standings, the exceptionally wealthy, and other various anomalies.

Akane, with her rather high-profile career as an Inspector, has a place in the third category. And with recent stresses of her demanding workload and the promise of even more to come with the offer of a promotion she’s received, Akane needs some time away to recharge before she hits the ground running into this new job and the hefty responsibilities that come with it. 

At least, that is what’s officially reported on the approval of her time-off application. The truth, however, tells a much different story.

***

CHAPTER 1

If she’s being honest, Akane doesn’t know a thing about the country of Spain. She doesn’t speak the native language (other than a few basic phrases she practiced during her flight), nor is she familiar with the customs, or even traditional cuisine. Although those things hardly matter, considering the state of affairs between Spain's borders.

Like most other countries, there is no formal government structure to enforce law, and the factions that arose from internal civil conflict are still in effect. However, Spain is a unique country in that the population is significantly smaller than most, and so it has progressed further than others to move away from chaos and violence, making it rather safe in comparison to the rest of the world.

Despite the official record back home, that is not why she’s chosen to visit Spain, of all the places she could have picked. Her true destination lies somewhere along a bus route that takes her to the outskirts of the capital city, hidden in the mountains that pass by the window in the distance. It’s written down on a carefully-folded sheet of paper in her coat pocket, but she doesn’t need to look at it to know what it says; the coordinates have essentially burned themselves into memory for how many times she’s read them over and over again.

When her GPS alerts her to get off at the next stop, she adheres to its direction and steps off the bus, finding herself surrounded by rocks and foliage stretching endlessly in every direction. The trees above her cast shade from the sky-centered sun with painted limbs, signaling the change in seasons.

There doesn’t seem to be any traces of civilization in the near vicinity. However, she trusts the GPS isn’t wrong and follows along the side of the road where it directs her, her suitcase following closely behind her with ease despite the rough terrain.

She’s glad she chose shoes with treaded soles, rather than the ballet flats she was initially tempted by this morning, as the walk turns out to be a bit of a climb uphill when the route directs her to stray away from the road. Her shoes aren’t meant for strenuous hiking, but they keep her from slipping on loose gravel and weeds rooted in the ground.

The route isn’t so much steep as it is a lot of walking, but finally she reaches a place where the ground begins to level out, and when she looks up, there’s a small cabin in the near distance placed neatly amongst the trees. It seems to blend in with the vines and moss that grow up its sides.

Akane hasn’t felt nervous since before her plane took off from Japan almost twelve hours ago. But when she sees the cabin, knowing who waits somewhere inside of it, she suddenly feels an anxious twinge in her gut, and pauses in her tracks.

She wonders then, would it be better if she just turned around? Would he even want to see her?

Her suitcase catches up to her, rocking over bumpy gravel, and comes to a stop at her side. Akane glances down at it briefly. The sleek edges reflect the filtered sunlight above, and it stands out unnaturally compared to the abundance of wildlife surrounding her. An automatic, self-navigating suitcase doesn’t belong out here in the middle of nowhere, up in the mountains.

And yet she’s brought it here, ventured up these hills after flying halfway across the world to see him, to see her goal through. It would be a complete waste to turn around now, even if he shoos her away. And if she really thinks about it, she knows he won’t do that. At least not to her. 

This hesitation is just her nerves getting the best of her, she deduces. So she keeps moving.

As she approaches, she can better see the shape the building is in. It looks old, with weathered wood serving as its foundation. There are patches of repair here and there; the first she notices is a window on the bottom floor, whose outer frame is newer, lighter in color. Inside the window is dark and she can’t make out anything. She also notices that, on the balcony jutting out from the second floor, several legs of the fencing have been replaced.

Then her gaze drifts, and she’s looking at the wide expanse of shedding trees behind the cabin, trees taller than she’s ever seen. They stretch so high it’s as if they’re attempting to rip a hole through the sky, and the further to the side she gazes, the higher they reach. Is it just a hill, or do the trees actually get taller? It’s difficult to tell from where she walks.

She jumps suddenly at the sound of a barking voice that pierces the tranquil silence. Her hand instinctively dashes under her coat, swiping the handgun she brought out of its holster, and she holds it up at arm’s length in the direction of the voice before her eyes catch up, before she sees where she’s aiming.

Even though Akane is expecting to see him, she still gasps in shock when she does. 

He’s standing on the balcony, and he’s holding a double barrel shotgun in his hand. Despite the brisk temperature, he’s dressed in a simple black shirt with short sleeves and a pair of jeans, stained with soil at the knees.

His eyes meet hers first thing, when they’re rough with an unnerving edge to them, but they soften with recognition, and then the gun lowers until it rests at his thigh. 

“Are we skipping the arrest and jumping straight to the part where you shoot me?”

She lets out the breath she didn’t know she was holding, sighing with relief. Slowly, she lowers her gun.

“I’m not here to arrest you,” she says, projecting her voice to reach him over the distance between them.

“I can tell,” he says, and nods his head to gesture to her suitcase. His tone is guarded, but there’s a warmth to it that allows her to relax. “What are you doing here?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was on vacation?”

His eyes narrow, sizing up her delicate form, like he’s trying to gauge whether or not she’s lying. She re-holsters her gun while he thinks, and perhaps that’s the gesture that ultimately convinces him, or maybe it’s something else. In the end he signals her the okay for her to come inside, and he turns to head down and meet her at the front door.

Out of politeness, she tries to not make a big show of taking in the surroundings once she steps inside. From a quick sweep of her eyes, she takes it all in, and she finds that it is a lot smaller than what it appears from the outside. Even so, it feels more cozy than crowded. 

It’s quaint and open, with mahogany trimming on the ceilings and floors, and a creamy loveseat adorned with wooden armrests paired with a low-legged coffee table. On the other side of the room sits a dining table made of what looks to be the same type of wood. There’s a sliding door on the back wall that opens to a patio, where she catches another glimpse of the rich, colored trees surrounding the rear of the property. A staircase on the right leads to the second floor, and beyond that is a door cracked ajar, and even further beyond that is an open walkway that she can’t see through from where she stands.

It’s small, but holds enough bare essentials to be comfortably livable. It certainly beats living in a padded cell in an isolation facility, or even the limited confines allowed to Enforcers by the MWPSB.

“You can put your suitcase in there,” he says, gesturing to the side room with the sofa. She raises her eyebrows at him, and he shrugs. “I’m assuming you need a place to stay.” Not a question, but an assertion.

“Is it that obvious?” she says sheepishly, clutching the handle of her suitcase.

“Why else would you bring your luggage with you all the way out here?” He moves past her down the hall and disappears into the mysterious open walkway, and returns a few minutes later with a cup of tea after she settles on the edge of a sofa cushion.

She takes the offered cup with thanks, grateful for its warmth after her mild hike through the chilly autumn air.

While she blows on the hot liquid, Kogami leans against the wall across from her, glaring at the hardwood floor with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Vacation, huh?” he asks. His tone is skeptical. She sips on the tea before looking up at him, humming affirmatively.

“Seven years is a long time to go without taking any time off,” she explains. 

“I can imagine,” he says. “How long were you planning to stay?”

“Trying to kick me out already?” she jokes. He gives a weak attempt at a smile, but it fades quickly, so she pulls back on the humor and her smile retracts consequently. “I didn’t have a specific length in mind.”

“Alright then,” he says. “So why did you pick this country of all places?”

She can understand why he's inquisitive, but with the hard edge in his voice when he speaks, she can’t help but feel like she’s being interrogated.

“Look, if you’re suspicious of me, I get it,” she says. “But you don’t have to beat around the bush. You can just come out and say it.” 

He doesn’t say anything. He simply continues to stare at the floor, but his face shows hints of deep thought. Since he’s silent, she continues. 

“Is it a crime to visit a friend?” she asks. 

This makes him look up at her. He’s aware she is being sarcastic, but there’s an irony in her question that mirrors the theme of his thoughts.

“Is it not, in your case?” he asks, though it comes out more like a statement. He pauses to let it sink in, then clarifies by adding, “You’re not the one I’m suspicious of.” 

He doesn’t need to cite it by name for her to know that he’s referring to the Sibyl System.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” she says flatly. 

“How do you know?”

“You really think I’m stupid enough to visit an escaped fugitive without covering my tracks first? I’m not an idiot.”

“How can you be sure you won’t be followed?”

“Nobody is going to come banging on your door to haul you back to Japan,” she insists with a rather harsh tone. She stares at him long and hard and he stares back, deciding whether or not to place his full trust in her statement. He wishes she would elaborate, but he supposes there are details to her arrangement that she isn’t at liberty to reveal.

It’s subtle, but she can see the trust in his eyes contrasting with disbelief as he contemplates her words. It is obvious there is something more that she isn’t telling him, and she can tell he is aware of that. 

But whatever it may be, he decides it isn’t a threat to him. In the end, and as he always does, he chooses to trust her completely. 

“Alright then,” he surrenders. “Stay as long as you need to.” Then he pushes himself from the wall and stands, and then backtracks into the small hallway. He gestures to the door just past the stairs as he strolls past it. 

“Bathroom is here,” he says, pointing, “kitchen is just down here. There isn’t much to eat but you can scrape together whatever you can find.”

“Thank you,” she says, while he’s still in earshot. She watches his shadow disappear down the hallway until he walks into view again, at the large square table on the other side of the room from her. He picks up a coat hanging on the back of a chair and slips into it, then without another word he slides the patio door open and closes it behind him.

Akane can’t help but laugh, despite the rush of tension still dissipating within her. Kogami has never been one for extravagant, warm welcomes, but she hadn’t been expecting him to abruptly leave her alone, and directly after making a stink out of trusting her, no less. That man can be such an amusing mystery.

Now that she is alone, she no longer feels intrusive investigating her surroundings. She sips on her tea as her eyes study the room. 

There isn’t much more than the basic furniture she’d already noted, but there is a small, low-standing bookshelf she hadn’t noticed before, sitting below the window. It’s modestly full of novels, most of which she hasn’t heard of, and she’s surprised to see how many titles engraved on the spines are written in languages other than Japanese.

Across from her sits a small stand with a set of little doors hiding the contents within, and atop the stand is an old-style television, one that’s too big to be mounted on the wall. From what she can tell, the screen appears to be caked with a thick layer of dust. She wonders if Kogami has ever bothered to touch it, and wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if he hasn’t.

When she finishes her tea, Akane makes her way to the kitchen to explore further. She first takes a minute to wash her cup, setting it upside down on a rack beside the sink to dry, then takes in the modest fixtures of the kitchen; there’s minimal counter space--though he doesn’t have much to fill it with--and only a couple cupboards hang above them, matched with a few doors below the counters to maximize storage potential in the small space. There’s a stove near the sink and a fridge stands tall across from it, and that’s all there is.

Other than the second floor--where she assumes his bedroom is--there isn’t much left to investigate, and she doesn’t feel quite right intruding that far into his personal space. So she slips on her coat and shoes and decides to see what he’s up to in the back, but not before she gets a proper view of the scenery teased by the backdoor window.

The trees stretch on for as far as her eyes can see, except for a small break a short hike away where the trees taper off to a jagged, rocky section of the ground that suddenly dips in elevation. She wonders where it leads to, though if she listens carefully, she can hear the distant sound of water, of waves crashing against the shore somewhere far away.

A rough grunt from her right captures her attention, and she follows it to find Kogami, on his knees in the dirt. His gloved hands are wrapped around a tall green stalk, and he’s yanking on it with impressive force, though it doesn’t do much to pull the plant from the ground. Whatever it is, it’s rooted very deeply in the soil.

“Shinya Kogami, a man capable of breaking a sparring robot with a single punch, bested by a mere weed?” she taunts, announcing her presence. He doesn’t seem surprised by her sudden appearance. He laughs sarcastically with a sharp huff, then readjusts his position, digging one foot into the dirt and standing up forcefully with another, louder grunt, both hands tight on the plant. This time, it comes rippling from the ground, the root shrouded in a large clump of dirt that falls off in bits as he moves. 

He stands triumphantly with the stem in hand, glaring at the weed. Its roots are nearly the size of his head. Then he shifts his gaze to her, his neutral expression betrayed by shameless eyes that seem to taunt ‘ _you were saying?_ ’

“Nevermind,” she says. He replies with nothing, discarding the weed into a large plastic bin, joining what looks like other pulled weeds. Then he kneels back down to the ground and picks up a small shovel, aggressively digging at the dirt in the hole left behind from the weed.

“What are you doing with that?” she asks.

“You have to remove the root completely, otherwise it could grow back,” he explains as he works. He scrapes the edges of the hole all the way around. “There’s a chance parts of it break off when you uproot it, so it’s best to dig the rest of it out.” She nods, watching silently for a moment, before glancing up.

Around them is a small enclosure that looks as though it used to be a garden. Most of it is overgrown with weeds and shrubbery that appear to have not been trimmed or maintained in years. There is a small patch cleared of the mess where Kogami kneels, slowly working his way inward through the tangles of plants. 

“What do you plan to grow here?” she asks.

“Depends on what I can get my hands on.”

“For food, I’m assuming?”

He nods. “It’d be nice to have my own supply so I don’t have to go into town as often.”

“You sound like a recluse,” she laughs. He doesn’t argue with that inference. “So what do you do for food now? I can’t imagine the economy here is stable enough for job security.”

He looks up from where he kneels, studying her expression. She wonders if she’s perhaps coming off too strongly asking so many questions.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” she reassures, putting her hands up as if she were surrendering. “I’m just curious.”

“The economy isn’t as bad as you think,” he says after a moment, his gaze retreating to the ground. He begins to scoop up the shoveled dirt and dumps it into the bin with the weeds. “The people here might not have a formal government to guide them with policies, but it’s not completely necessary.”

“What do you mean?”

“People still need to make a living, and a lot of the people here--at least in this area--try to do that peacefully. For example, how did you get all the way out here?”

“I took a bus,” she answers.

“Didn’t it strike you as odd that an organized bussing system exists in a stateless society?”

“Yeah, a little.” 

He seems content with the removal of the weed and finally stands, shrugging his hands out of the gloves caked with dirt. As he speaks, he moves to the deck and sets the gloves down on the railing after beating the dirt from them, and Akane follows, leaning on it beside him. Between them is an ashtray stuffed full of discarded cigarette butts. 

“Certain public services are still available by the will of those who decided to upkeep them,” he explains. “Society needs transportation, and so someone decided to provide it as a means of making their living. People who use it pay with money, or by exchanging goods and services. Essentially, the economy here has been broken down to the basics.”

“So how do you figure into that?” 

Kogami doesn’t answer right away. First he swipes a pack of cigarettes from a pocket hidden inside his coat, along with a lighter. He lights one, then holds the pack out to Akane. It takes her a moment to realize he’s offering her one. 

“Oh, no, thank you,” she says quickly, pushing the pack back to him. “I don’t smoke.”

“Good,” he says, holding the butt between his lips as he slides the pack back in his pocket. “Don’t start.” Then, a moment later, she notices he’s peeking down at her from the corners of his questioning eyes, like he’s attempting to put together pieces of a puzzle that don’t quite fit.

“What is it?” she asks.

“Nothing.”

“If it’s nothing, then why do you keep looking at me like that?” He continues to stare at her for a few more seconds, then sighs.

“Just trying to figure out why you had them before, is all.”

The memory pops back into her head, a memory of when they escaped from an attacking war drone by hiding in a pool of water, which inevitably drenched his last cigarette. She later offered him one from a pack she carried on her person, not-so-coincidentally his brand of choice. He remembers such a small detail after all these years?

Kogami hadn’t asked for an explanation about why she had them at the time, and so she never felt compelled to give one. The thought of explaining it now comes with an uncomfortable heat in her cheeks.

“It’s a long story,” she says with a laugh to hide her embarrassment. “But you still haven’t answered my question.” 

Maybe she doesn’t need to give him an explanation, since his brows relax and the confusion edging his irises suddenly disappears, as though the misfitting pieces have reoriented and he’s able to make sense of them, and then he silently puts them together on his own. Mystery solved, then he moves on.

“Dodging my question with your own question, huh?” he teases, exhaling a puff of smoke that disappears into the wind. “You sure are fit to be a detective.”

“Is that not what you’re doing?” 

“Thought you said I didn’t have to answer.”

“You don’t,” she says. “But if you don’t have to, then neither do I.”

Amused, Kogami shares a half-grin, then takes a long drag from his cigarette before tapping the excess into the ashtray between them.

“I know a guy in town,” he says, after some comfortable silence passes. “I do favors for him in exchange for whatever I need. No questions asked, no strings attached.” 

“What kind of favors?”

“What is this, a job interview?”

“I’m just curious,” she insists. “Like I said, you aren’t obligated to answer.”

This time he doesn’t humor her question, and she lets it go, giving into the silence he initiates between them. For now that seems to be the end of her inquisition, but he’s sure it will return later.

He watches as she turns around and leans on the railing, arms crossed and her bangs swaying gently with the breeze, and he watches her eyes pander over the scape of trees behind the cabin from one side to the next, and back again. He doesn’t blame her. The scenery is rather breath-taking and has a peculiar calming ability that renders it almost hypnotic, in a way. In all his life, Kogami has never seen a place quite like it, especially not in Japan.

“Where does that dropoff lead to?” she asks. “Some kind of beach?” He takes one last drag before he crushes the cigarette in the ashtray, then turns around to eye the rocky slope in question. 

“The Atlantic,” he says. “It’s not much of a beach, more like water crashing into rocks. But it’s nice if you need to sit and think for a while.”

“How far down is it?” she asks curiously. There's an interesting tone to her voice, and he can practically hear the gears turning in her head.

“Too far for you to go down by yourself. You won’t make it with no rock climbing experience.”

"How do you know I don't have any?" 

"Call it a lucky guess."

“Well do _you_ have rock climbing experience?” she asks hopefully. He sighs, hating to be the bearer of bad news, but he's definitely not in the mood to scale the cliffside, as it is dangerous without the proper supplies which he doesn't currently have. 

“Maybe some other time," he says. 

She lowers her chin to her arms dejectedly, pursing her lips with a disappointed sigh. It’s silly and childish, and borderlining pathetic, and yet he finds his expression cracking and folding into amused sympathy. If she were anybody else he would easily ignore it and get right back to de-weeding his garden. But she _isn't_ just anyone else and he hates how it _actually_ makes him feel guilty for saying no. 

After all these years, she still has such a curiously profound effect on him. He wonders if she’s even aware of it.

She must be feeling restless, he guesses, or perhaps excited by the promise of new somethings, seeing as how she’s so eager to traverse down a dangerous cliffside just minutes after arriving on his doorstep. A less intensive idea comes to his mind.

“How was your flight?” he asks preemptively.

“It was okay, I guess,” she answers. “Long and boring, mostly.”

“Are you tired, then?”

“No, not really.”

“Well there’s a path through the woods if you want to hike up the mountain,” he says. “It’s easier and safer.” 

Akane stands up a little straighter. “Are you offering to take me?” she asks, her brow raised curiously.

“I guess I am.” There is more work he wants to do in the garden, but he isn’t in much of a hurry to get it done, seeing as how he can’t plant much of anything until spring rolls around. And the way her eyes light up at his proposal makes him almost smile. Almost. 

He ducks inside to grab them some bottles of water, then leads the way to the path at the edge of the trees.

On the way, and feeling a bit uncharacteristically lighthearted thanks to her bright enthusiasm, he attempts to crack a joke about the likelihood of her getting lost if she were to navigate the woods on her own. He expects her to scold him or to retaliate with a teasing jab of her own, but instead, she surprises him by cackling loudly with laughter, vivaciously agreeing with his comment. 

It’s been awhile since he’s heard her laugh, and realizes, when he silently chuckles along with her, that it's been even longer since he’s heard his own. 

The route he takes as he leads her isn’t clearly marked, save for the deliberate clearing of trees which tells her something of a more prominent path used to wind through the area up the hill. But it hasn’t been maintained in quite some time, evident by the way it is terribly overgrown with underbrush and littered with leaves and sticks. Stray branches jut out from neighboring trees, and the terrain can be slippery if any steps aren’t taken carefully.

It turns out to be a bit tougher than Akane had anticipated. The shoes she wears had brought her through the uneven stretch between his cabin and the main road just fine, but they aren’t suited for a rough hike through the woods like this. 

Kogami feels a twinge of guilt for not noticing beforehand, but she insists she’s managing just fine. Still, he keeps his pace slow so it’s easy for her to keep up, and he tries to keep the route as clear of debris as he can, holding branches to the side and offering the support of his arm for particularly steep steps. 

They hike for what feels like an hour, the time mostly filled with silence. Other than her occasional inquiry about what he’s been up to over the last three years and him catching up with updates on what was left of the old Division 1, there isn’t much conversation to be had. She seems just as comfortable with the silence as he usually is, although something about the quiet that ensues, coupled with the unfamiliar urge he has to fill it, is strange to him.

But then he realizes that, since he arrived in Spain, he’s only spent brief periods of time with strangers and with minimal interaction. For the most part, he spends his time alone, and he generally prefers it that way since making smalltalk, or really socializing in general, isn’t his cup of tea. 

However, Akane _isn’t_ a stranger; she's somebody he truly considers a friend. And if he's being honest, she is one of the closest friends he has. So perhaps this strange urge to hold a conversation is his way of realizing that he’s missed having the company of a friend around. 

Since she isn’t bothered by the silence, he tries to not let it bother him.

Eventually, they reach a point on the hill where the ground begins to even out, and up ahead Akane can see a clearing in the trees, indicated by the glow of excess sunlight just ahead. And from the clearing she can see where an open cliffside overlooks a breathtaking expanse of forest far below them, before the edge of it meets the ocean, a deep navy that glitters with dancing waves as the sun beats down on it.

“The ground here is unstable,” he warns, as she takes a few wary steps towards the edge to get a better view. “So be careful.”

“Wow,” is all she manages to say. 'Wow' is right. 

To the north, further beyond the forest are mountains that reach even higher than these, ones that are a rich purple with frosty tips and normally disappear into the clouds, only today the sky is unusually void, a perfectly clear blue. He watches as her eyes roam in wonder, then takes a moment to take it all in himself. He doesn’t venture up here very often, but it sure is worth it when he does.

Far down below on the ground, he notices an animal trotting slowly between the trees. At first he can’t tell what it is, but after a few seconds, he recognizes it.

“Look,” he says suddenly, pointing in its direction. “Do you see that?”

“What?” she asks. She attempts to follow the line where his finger is pointing.

“A deer,” he says. “You’ve probably never seen one in the wild since they went extinct in Japan, but they’re abundant here.”

“I don’t see it,” she says, following a moment of fruitless searching.

“It’s right where I’m pointing. Between those trees.”

“There are hundreds, if not thousands of trees," she says. She inches forward with caution, trying to find where exactly he’s pointing, but it’s essentially useless. “I feel like you’re lying to me.” 

“I’m not. Look more to the right.”

“I _am_ looking to the right, I don’t see--” She’s cut off right by the sound of a loud crack! as the ground suddenly gives way under her weight, and begins to slide downward. Kogami is quick to grab her shoulders and yank her with him as he leaps back, retreating to a safe distance away, and together they watch as a portion of the cliffside breaks away completely, and tumbles all the way down to crash on the ground. The impact is loud, and they can feel it vibrate all the way back up the mountain and through their feet.

“Well now you’ve scared it away.” 

She shoots him a pointed look, her heart racing in her chest. She just nearly off a cliff, and he’s turning it into a joke? He glares back at her, though his eyes are much more playful than hers, which eventually subdues her irritation. He had saved her, after all. 

“I feel like there should be some sort of warning sign,” she says.

“ _I_ warned you.”

“I mean if someone else comes up here and doesn’t know how dangerous it is.”

“Nobody else comes up here.” He leaves it at that and begins to nudge her back towards the edge of the clearing. “The sun is going to set in a bit, so we should get going.”

Akane peers out over the edge one last time before they head back down the path. Threat of falling to certain death aside, it’s still an incredible view.

Hiking down proves to be significantly easier than the way up, but she has to be mindful of where she steps; the coverage of leaves on the forest floor is more slippery as they move at a faster speed going downhill. Needless to say, she is much more cautious now after witnessing the cliffside break literally under her feet.

The breeze starts to pick up more, cooling the temperature as the sun sinks lower in the sky. Something about the growing crispiness of the air is refreshing, but she still buttons up her coat.

The path seems to forge on with no end in sight, and after awhile Akane begins to feel nervous about how low the sun sits just above the treetops, casting a dulling, warm glow through the leaves, and she asks, “Will we make it back in time before it gets dark?” 

“It’s not much further,” he reassures. “As long as we keep moving, we’ll be fine.”

A few strides later, when he reaches flatter ground at the bottom of a steep dip, Kogami stops, and Akane collides into him from behind. She doesn't fall thanks to his arms thrown out to steady her, and he waits until she's standing up straight just fine on her own to go of her, and then he steps to the edge of the path, venturing just a bit beyond it.

“Is something wrong?” she asks.

“Gotta take a leak,” he says, and then his hands disappear in front of him. “Hold on a sec.”

“Seriously?! Right now? You can’t wait until we get back?” 

Apparently not, since he doesn’t answer. The second she hears the sound of his zipper she bolts in the opposite direction.

“I’ll be over here then,” she calls over her shoulder. Then she mutters to herself about rude behavior and improper manners and the gross realization that she could be walking over some stranger's urine coating the leaves under her feet, until her attention is captured by another dropoff a few steps ahead of her. She momentarily stops in her tracks. It doesn’t appear to be very deep from what she can see, and when she glances behind her to find the outline of Kogami still a comfortable distance away, she decides to investigate, just for a moment.

As she creeps closer, Akane can see the forest floor sharply dipping down into a ravine. This time, as she nears the edge, she is much more cautious, grabbing hold of a sturdy, low-hanging tree branch for security. 

The ravine isn’t enormous by any means, but it is deeper than she initially thought. There are many trees of altering colors, but they are more spaced out, not quite as condensed as the trees in higher elevation. Suddenly she sees something darting between them.

She holds her breath as she realizes it’s a deer. 

Kogami had been right; she has never seen one before back in Japan. She stares at it in awe as it sniffs the ground around the trunks of trees, searching for something edible. She can't believe how incredibly close it is, wandering around mere yards away from her. 

It’s gentle, and quiet, and she feels almost guilty standing there watching it, as though she’s encroaching on its territory.

Just then, Kogami’s voice echoes through the air as he calls out for her, and the deer’s head snaps up suddenly, its eyes wide and alert. It then dashes away just a second later, disappearing so quickly into the brush that she hardly even registers it’s moving until it’s gone. 

In the same moment, the loose soil beneath her feet crumbles, as she’d been leaning too far forward, and the branch she holds for safety snaps as she falls, scraping the palm of her hand.

The sting of pain is forgotten immediately as she collides with the sloping ground of the ravine, too hard and too fast, and she feels her ankle bend too far, forcing out a cry as her body collapses roughly to the ground, and she rolls deeper into the ravine.

Somewhere above her, Kogami is calling her name, but the sound of it is quickly growing further and further away as she tumbles, bumping and sliding through the dirt. Eventually, she comes to a crashing halt at the base of a tree, which knocks the wind out of her, leaving her lying still.

When her eyes finally open, it’s almost impossible to tell exactly how much time has passed, but she does notice a distinct lack of sunlight than there was when she first fell. 

It takes her a long moment to gather her bearings before she pushes herself up to her elbows. There’s a dull ringing in her ears, but apart from that, her hearing seems normal, and she can see just fine with no floating spots or bubbles of light in her vision. 

Looking up, she can’t see how far she’s fallen, and she doesn’t hear Kogami’s voice. So instead, she calls out to him, but it takes all the breath she has in her lungs and leaves her breathless. She lets her head drop while she catches her breath.

“Akane!”

Her head shoots back up immediately, searching for the direction of his voice. He doesn’t sound as far away as she remembers.

“I’m here,” she yells back, as loudly as she can with what little breath she has. Then she pushes herself up to a sitting position, holding her head steady with one hand as it spins rapidly. A long moment spent taking slow, deep breaths helps the spinning subside.

In the distance are snapping twigs and rustling brush, and as she attempts to turn and face where the sounds are coming from, a burning sensation suddenly flares up in her ankle, making her recoil. She waits for the pain to subside, then rolls up the hem of her pants to inspect the damage. As far as she can tell, it doesn’t look serious, with no bleeding or visible bruising. But it's definitely swollen when she tries to touch the area gingerly, wincing as she does so. 

“Akane!” This time, his voice comes from directly behind her, so close that she’s sure she would see him if she turns around. She manages to throw a glance over her shoulder in time to see him close the distance between them with long, hurried strides.

He drops down to kneel beside her. For the briefest of moments, he looks absolutely beside himself, worry evident all over his face. His chest is heaving like he’d just finished running a marathon. But it fades just as quickly as he ran now that he sees she’s conscious and not severely injured. 

“Are you in pain anywhere?” he asks through heavy breaths. 

“My ankle,” she says. “It bent pretty hard when I fell.”

“Is that all?”

“I think so.”

“This doesn’t hurt?” He holds up her hand by her wrist, where her palm is red with drying blood. He picks off a couple leaves that cling to it. 

“Oh,” she says, her tone surprisingly confused, as though she hadn’t realized her hand was bleeding at all. “Yeah, that too, I guess.”

He wants to take a moment to inspect her ankle, which is still exposed by her rolled up pants, but they don’t have time to sit there while the sun sinks lower with every passing second. It’s already gotten darker than when she’d first regained consciousness.

“Can you stand on it?” he asks.

“I haven’t tried to.”

“Let’s give it a try, then.” He stands to his feet and offers her a hand. With his help, she pulls herself up to her knees, but when she tries to place weight on the injured leg, she drops back to the ground, flinching sharply.

The sun is barely peeking over the treetops, so without wasting any time, Kogami opts for carrying her on his back and hurries back to the trail. Going back up the slope of the ravine is tricky, especially with the weight of two people on one pair of legs, but he manages.

“What happened?” he asks, when they are finally back on the path.

“I saw a deer,” she explains. “I must have gotten too close to the edge.”

“Thought I told you to be careful when doing that.” 

“I was!” she argues. “I just didn’t realize I was leaning so far forward.” He gives only a sigh in response, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Oh, don’t give me that! If it wasn’t for you deciding to stop and pee, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“So it’s my fault you got shy and ran off?” There’s a hint of playfulness in his otherwise scolding tone, and Akane feels her face grow warm because of it.

“I wasn’t being shy,” she insists, despite the redness in her cheeks that he--thankfully--can’t see. “You were being indecent.”

“First you show up on my doorstep unannounced, then you give me a heart attack, _twice_ , then demand my hard labor and medical attention, and now you’re trying to lie _and_ scold me in the same breath? You really are something else.” 

His tone is heavily laced with sarcasm, but she can’t help but feel as though there is genuine anger behind his words, or irritation, or something else that she can’t place. She doesn’t think he’s trying to be mean, but either way, she falls silent, and he doesn’t say anything else either.

Unlike the trek up the hill, the silence is cumbersome. But it isn’t much longer until they break the clearing at the bottom of the trail. The dark outline of the cabin can be seen against a deep purple sky, dotted with wisps of stars beginning to emerge in the night.

Once inside, Kogami sets her down on the dining table. She is temporarily left alone while he escapes the tension, disappearing into the kitchen and returning a few minutes later holding a bag of ice, wrapped in a small towel in his hands.

He sets it on the table first, before rolling up her pant leg. His fingertips, cold from the ice, feel good against her sweltering skin, which has visibly pinkened with swelling. She bites her lip to keep from flinching as he prods the area. 

“How would you describe the pain when you fell?” he asks, and instead of the bitter sarcasm from before, his voice is gentle.

“It felt sharp, like it’d been cut, I guess.”

“Does it still feel like that?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “It just feels really hot.” He reaches for the bag of ice.

“It’s just a sprain,” he concludes, and presses the ice to her skin, looking up to meet her eyes. “Not severe. Just keep icing and stay off of it tomorrow.” Then he leaves her to her thoughts to disappear into the bathroom.

Alone, and unable to get his earlier words out of her head, Akane can’t help but feel guilty. It’s already one thing to show up as an uninvited guest, but now she’s made herself someone he has to look after. Compared to the nervous excitement she had to see him after such a long time apart, now she simply feels like an unwanted burden. 

She apologizes when he returns with a first aid kit, but he shrugs off dismissively.

“Why are you apologizing?” he asks, and he takes her injured hand tenderly in his to inspect the damage. It’s mostly scraped skin with debris--most likely dirt--mixed in with the blood.

“Aren’t you mad at me?” she asks. He dabs the dirt away with a wet, warm cloth.

“Do I have a reason to be?” 

She narrows her eyes at him, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“You listed off a few pretty good reasons just a little while ago,” she says. “And you seemed mad.” His eyes glance up at hers, the cleansing paused.

“I was just teasing, that’s all,” he says. But she doesn’t seem convinced, so he adds, “I wouldn’t let you stay here if you weren’t welcome. And your fall was an accident. No point in apologizing for it.” She stares back at him, skeptically at first, but the unremitting warmth in his gaze persuades her of his honesty, and slowly, by his command, she lets the guilt melt away.

When she looks satisfied, he wordlessly shifts his focus back down to her hand. 

With much of the dirt gone, he can see the wound more clearly, and what he thought was mostly scrapes on the surface of the skin is joined by a short, deeper cut in the center of her palm. It isn’t bleeding anymore but he decides to disinfect it, uncapping a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and reaching for a fresh rag.

“You can be so difficult to read sometimes,” she comments as he douses the chemical on the cloth, though it sounds more as though she’s wondering aloud. He ignores the remark and gently grips her arm by the wrist.

“This will hurt,” he warns. 

“I’ve had worse,” she says with an airy laugh. True to her word, she doesn’t grimace at all as the peroxide bubbles in her wound. He wraps her palm up in a bandage once it’s disinfected, then moves her to the sofa where she props her leg on the low table in front, cradling her ankle in the ice and a throw pillow.

She thanks him when he cooks a meager dinner for the two of them, and again when he takes her empty dish to wash up once she’s finished. He lives a much cleaner lifestyle than she expected him to; the state of his living quarters at the PSB was never a _mess_ per se, but she always thought it could have been much tidier. She supposes that now having less to maintain makes it easier to stay clean.

He clearly isn’t suited for hosting, by the way he bids her a quick goodnight, only to trudge awkwardly back down the stairs a few minutes later with a spare pillow and blanket having forgotten to give her any bedding beforehand, only to follow that up with another awkward goodnight and finally retreating upstairs for good. 

To his credit, he was completely unprepared and had no prior warning of her arrival. He hadn’t known he’d be hosting a guest until just a few hours earlier, and admittedly, she feels just an unprepared as him. Up until she arrived in Spain and made her way to his coordinates, Akane hadn’t had a plan in mind as to how she was going to carry out her goal. Now she is here, and though he’d granted her an indefinite stay, she knows she doesn’t have unlimited time, and she’s going to have to figure something out sooner rather than later.

She doesn’t realize how utterly tired she is until she lays down on the sofa. 

Japan is several hours ahead of Spain and her body has yet to adjust to the time difference; as it is, she feels as though she’s stayed awake for the bleak, empty hours in the middle of the night, when in reality it’s only late evening. The worry on her mind and the heated throb in her ankle only add onto the threads of exhaustion wearing down her muscles, and so she collapses graciously into the cushion and enjoys the warmth of the blanket over her aching figure.

As she lays on her back, staring at the ceiling, she wonders if Kogami is already asleep, or if he’s going to lie awake for a few hours in deep thought. Or maybe he’s reading until his eyes can’t stay open any longer, and his book will fall to his chest and be crushed by the weight of his body as he tosses and turns in his sleep. 

She wonders if he’s thinking of her, somewhere in the front or in the back of his mind, if he’s still suspicious of her intentions. She hadn’t told him the whole truth, and she knows he’s aware of that fact. 

But as far as she’s concerned, he doesn’t need to know, nor does she plan to tell him. She can’t tell him.

But it’s a relief to know that, at least as of yet, he isn’t pushing for that truth, and to know he still trusts her wholeheartedly, even after their long time apart. For now that’s enough, and so she’s able to fall asleep with little worry in her heart.


	2. Unbottled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been staring at this for way too long trying to edit, but I could edit it forever and never be 100% satisfied. So I decided to just post it as is. I hope you enjoy this from the comfort of quarantine. (And for those who still have to go to work, please be safe, and thank you!)
> 
> tw// verbal harassment that is sexual in nature, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of abuse, alcohol usage, mentions of suicide

It's raining when Akane wakes in the morning. The sky is blanketed with pale gray for an hour or so, until the rain lets up and the clouds part, letting the sun dry Kogami's workspace before she finishes eating her breakfast. 

Though the swelling in her ankle has calmed significantly overnight, leaving her with only a dull ache, he tells her to stay off of it for a while longer. So Akane rests for the majority of the day on the sofa.

While Kogami spends his day tending to the garden, Akane spends hers reading. The book collection he’s amassed is on the smaller side, but it's filled with an array of titles that she scans in search for something of interest. Although from what she remembers of his taste in books, she’s certain she’ll like almost anything he keeps on his shelf. 

She wonders which books have seen the light of Japan, that she might remember from the crammed shelves of books in his old quarters, which ones that could have been waiting in this abandoned cabin before he found it, and which ones that were picked up along his journey to Spain, carrying with them stories she wouldn't be able to find in their texts. 

There is one paperback with a frayed, worn spine that draws her eye. When she fingers it from its place and pulls it out to hold in her hands, the binding looks fragile, barely held together by decades-old glue, as though it’s been read too many times to count and has somehow survived.

 _The Long Walk_ by Stephen King, she reads. It must be good if he’s worn it down this much from reading it.

A summary on the back cover intrigues her further and so she curls up comfortably on the sofa to spend the next few hours engrossed in its pages.

It’s after sundown when she’s disturbed by the sound of the patio door sliding open. She doesn’t look up right away, instead waiting until she finishes reading a paragraph, but when she glances up to greet him, he isn’t anywhere to be seen.

Through the patio door there's stark evidence of how much time has passed that she hadn't noticed; the sky is painted with a deep wine canvased behind pitch-colored leaves that dance in the wind, no traces of sunlight left except what cries from below the horizon. 

He must be exhausted from working hard all day. 

Then she notices his coat hanging on the back of a chair, and a moment later the familiar, light drumming of dry rice being poured into a bowl escapes from the kitchen. 

It reminds Akane of those home-cooked meals she is seldom treated to, other than the exceptionally rare occasions when she finds slivers of time to visit her parents amidst the chaotic demands of work. This sentiment pries her from the warm indent in the sofa cushion as she bookmarks her place and sets the book down on the coffee table. Then, carefully, she rises to her feet. 

The day of rest has helped considerably. Her ankle is stiff but gives her minimal pain when she walks. She’s careful to not place too much weight on the injury as best as she can manage.

When she finally saunters into the kitchen Kogami is standing with his back to her, hunched over the sink as he washes the rice in a basin. 

“You should be resting,” he says without so much as a glance over his shoulder. 

“I’ve been resting all day,” she complains. “I’m fine. And I'm a little sick of your couch to be honest.” Truthfully, she’s in dire need of a conversation after spending the day alone in a quiet room with nobody to talk to.

“So you're feeling absolutely no pain whatsoever,” he comments. The skeptical nature of his tone suggests he’s fully aware that his statement isn't true and is inviting her to correct him. So rather than answering, she silently compromises by hoisting herself up onto the counter and sitting in the small space between the stove and sink that he isn’t using.

He glances up from the basin of rice to look at her, his expression softening with amusement before he shifts his focus back to his work.

“Just be careful when you get down,” he says.

“I thought I’d jump down directly on it, actually,” she teases. He doesn't seem to find the joke as funny as she does, evident by his half-hearted glare, but she simply smiles back with jest in her eyes until he looks away.

She watches his hands work as he flushes the rice with water then drains it, repeating the process until the rice is sufficiently rinsed and the water runs clear. 

“So how many times have you read through that Stephen King book?” she asks. He lifts the basin into the rice cooker and snaps the lid down, switching it on with the press of a button. Then he moves to the refrigerator.

“Which one?” He pulls out a small paper package from the cool shelves and brings it back to his work space. 

“The one about a race without a finish line.”

“ _The Long Walk_?”

“Yes, that one. It looks so worn it seems like it’s about to fall apart.”

“I’ve read it once, maybe twice,” Kogami says. His eyes are fixed on the two fish he pulls from the package. Akane's brows raise in confusion.

“So was it just in that bad of shape when you got it?” He lays out the fish to lie flat on a cutting board and moves to the sink to wash his hands.

“That was supposed to be a joke,” he says. 

“Not a very good one,” she laughs. With the cover of her hand she shields her sneer from his side glare. 

For a quick moment she worries her comment has upset him when, after he dries his hands, suddenly he steps in her direction with an annoyed look on his face. He stops directly in front of her with unreadable eyes, dark yet inviting, and with lips that pull up in a smirk as she instinctively leans away from his closeness, the back of her head bumping lightly into the cabinet behind her.

Though she’s taken aback by his unexpectedly close proximity, she doesn’t let her gaze waver from his. 

“Do you need something?” she asks. In lieu of answering, he reaches for her crown, pulling it down so that he can open the cabinet without the door hitting her head. Too shocked to move, she finds his shirt is soft and reeks of his cigarettes, and his hand on the back of her head is warm. 

Seconds later she can feel the crescendo of her heart drumming in her ears as she stares at their feet, his planted on the floor and hers dangling above them. Clinks of glass from all of his rummaging distract her. Though it can’t take him _that_ long to find what he needs, Akane swears an eternity passes by before he finally closes the door and lets her sit up. 

In his hand are a few small canisters of spices, which he sets on the counter before getting to work seasoning the fish. One by one, he sprinkles a dash of each spice over the fish, then flips them over and repeats the process until both sides are covered to his satisfaction.

"What kind of seasoning are you putting on them?" she asks.

"Salt, pepper, paprika, and garlic," he says. Then he offers her an apologetic half-smile. "Though I suppose I should have asked if that's alright with you first."

She shakes her head, waving him off. 

"I'll eat whatever you make."

"You don't have any allergies, do you?" 

At first she shakes her head, but then her head cocks to the side with distant interest, as if remembering a long-forgotten memory. 

"Well I'm not allergic, but I don't like mushrooms,” she says. “That's my only request."

"I can work with that.” He moves the seasoned fish over to the stove top and drops them in a pan before switching on the heat. She watches thoughtfully as he fries them, watching them cook and bubble around the edges, and immersing her so deeply in observing that she jumps a little when he speaks again. 

"Why don't you like them?" he asks. 

"Like what?" 

"Mushrooms."

"I don't like the texture.” She shudders a little at the thought. “And they leave a weird aftertaste." He hums thoughtfully, noting her preference. She wonders if she's just ruined a potential meal he'd been planning. 

"Why do you ask?" 

"Just trying to get an idea of your taste palate," he says. She smiles softly. 

"It sounds as though you've become quite the chef over the years," she muses. He shrugs. 

"You start to learn the importance of flavor when you're eating the same boring crap every day."

"At least you know how to flavor things," she says. "Every time I've tried to cook something it never comes out tasting quite right. Usually it just ends up in the garbage." 

"I've had your cooking before," he says. "It wasn't that bad." 

"You must have been sick or something," she says with a laugh. She keeps her eyes fixed on the fish as it cooks.

"I'm sure what you cook is better than that crap AIs call food." Now he’s the one shuddering from awful food memories.

"Maybe.” She shrugs. "Though I don't have one anymore. I usually just eat in the cafeteria at work or order takeout. That's all I have time for these days."

"Work keeping you busy?" Akane nods. Her shoulders slump sadly as they switch to this new topic. What awaits her when she returns to work isn't something she's particularly excited about. 

Kogami notices her change in attitude and regrets asking. He searches for another subject to talk about but falls short of anything substantial. They sit in the quiet interrupted only by the crackling of fish. 

"Do you miss it?" she asks quietly. "Working in the CID?" 

"I miss a lot of things," he says. "Being held under lock and key by Sibyl isn't one of them." He'd only planned on leaving it at that, until he notices the nimble fingers of sadness creep down her face from the corner of his eye. 

That's when he realizes what she's actually asking, and suddenly he feels like an ass. 

"But the job itself wasn't too bad," he adds. That seems to ratify his mistake as her face softens, but only a little. It doesn't erase everything.

They're interrupted by a chime from the rice cooker with almost perfect timing as the fish are just about finished. 

Over dinner they talk more about the book Akane is reading. Kogami gives her an actual answer to her question, and it turns out he’s read through the novel countless times, so many that he couldn’t give an estimate even if he tried, due mostly to his strong relationship to the protagonist. That, and the book is an underrated Stephen King classic, according to Kogami. 

Akane surprisingly enjoys the subtle horror of the book as a whole. This comes as a shock to him. Though she explains she isn't partial to any one genre, it still confuses him; she never seemed like someone to read, let alone enjoy, dark literature. 

Then when he thinks about it, Kogami doesn't know much about her personal preferences at all. The only exception that he can think of other than the newfound knowledge of her distaste for mushrooms is her choice in fashion, which was rather feminine and colorful at the time that he'd met her. But now, looking at the simple gray shirt and crisp, clean pair of jeans she wears, he wonders if that's changed. Then he wonders what else about her may have changed over time that isn't as evident. 

When they've finished eating and washed the dishes, Kogami showers and heads upstairs to end his day early. Given that he devoted most of his day to hard work in his garden, she doesn't blame him. 

Akane decides to rinse off as well. Unfortunately the shower doesn't heat up beyond a brisk lukewarm no matter how far she twists the knob, so she's in and out in a flash, slipping quickly into her sleep clothes and retreating to warm refuge in her blankets on the loveseat. 

The night is dark outside, a black canvas outside the window in front of her. Despite the hour, her mind is wide awake. So she passes the time by reading, hoping to make quick work of finishing her novel before she falls asleep. The task proves its difficulty as her mind starts to wander while she reads. 

Akane wonders how her team is faring without her. Surely Mika is handling the temporary handover of the Senior Inspector title just fine. She's tough and more than capable of the job. Although wrangling several Enforcers on her own for an undetermined amount of time can’t be an easy task, even for someone as fierce and determined as Mika.

A bubble of guilt begins to form in the pit of her stomach that grows worse the longer her thoughts linger. She knows she needs to get back home at some point; things can’t be left as they are for too long. She has new shoes to fill, bigger and more demanding, and they cannot continue to go unfilled for much longer. The pressure of what awaits her didn't feel quite so heavy when she boarded the plane to Spain just two days prior, but now she can feel the weight of it begin to show itself. 

It’s not so much leaving the job of two people for Mika to handle on her own that eats at her; it’s the fact that Akane knows she’s only delaying the inevitable by being away, by hiding away in Spain despite her selfish justification. And though only she is aware of it, the fact that she's hiding behind a lie weighs heavily on her conscience. 

She desperately wanted to tell Mika and Ginoza when she first got the news. Even more than that, she wants to tell Kogami before she leaves. Somebody should know about her secret, and of all people, he's the best person to tell. But she can't.

It’s at this point in her train of thought where Akane realizes she’s read an entire page without recalling a single word. With a huff of frustration she starts over, flitting her eyes back to the top of the page. Slowly, she forges her way through the pages, and then through a whole chapter, and after that she works her way into the next with eyes that ache like hot iron until she lets them close. 

The next thing she's aware of is filtered sunlight dawning on her closed lids as the shield of pages tickles her cheeks when it's lifted from her face. And then she's suddenly aware of a tall, dark figure looming over her. 

Instinctively, her hand seizes the wrist of the intruder and twists their arm before she registers who it actually is. 

But Kogami’s reaction is just as fast. His free hand snatches her arm, freezing her movements before she can do any damage. 

She unhands him immediately when she realizes what has just happened, and collapses down on the sofa, draping her arm over her eyes to hide her embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters. She can feel her face growing red under her arm. Kogami chuckles.

“I should be the one apologizing for startling you,” he says. She looks from beneath the shield of her limb to find the book in his hands, one finger stuck between the pages to mark her spot. Then she watches him set it down on the table after slipping a bookmark in place.

“What time is it?” she asks.

“Early. Want some coffee?” She sits up and stretches her arms high above her head as far as they'll go. 

“Sure,” she says. A yawn escapes her, and she covers her mouth with a hand until it passes. Meanwhile he disappears into the kitchen. 

Before getting up, Akane takes a moment to survey her ankle to find it isn't swollen or tender to the touch, nor does it cause her any discomfort when she stands and walks over to the bathroom. 

Kogami is strolling from the kitchen with two mugs of steaming liquid in his hands and heading for the dining table when she finishes her business, and she makes her way over to join him. He pauses, noticing the encouraging lack of limping when she walks. 

"How’s the leg?" he asks.

"Fine," she says, sitting down in one of the chairs. He sets the mug down in front of her and heads back into the kitchen, then returns with sugar for the coffee. He doesn't add any to his, so it must be for her. 

"How did you know?" she asks, gesturing to the sugar before she picks up a spoonful to stir into her mug. Her tone is as playful as her eyes. "Are you profiling me?" 

"Not this time. Just a guess." She takes a tentative sip to test the sweetness while he sits down in the seat opposite from her, and watches her add in another spoonful with exhausted curiosity in his eyes. Then he adds, "Although people who are compassionate and friendly are more likely to enjoy sweeter things.”

"What does your expertise say about people who drink black coffee?" 

"They're more likely to be callous, insensitive, and manipulative," he says, looking dejectedly down into the dark liquid in his mug. He stares as though he’s looking in a mirror and finds muted disgust in the reflection.

"You're not any of those things, if that’s what you’re thinking."

"You seem pretty sure of yourself." 

"Name _one_ manipulative thing you've done,” she challenges. 

"I wanted you to kill Makishima," he says roughly. The icy notes in his tone take her by surprise. "On Nona Tower, with the helmet." 

Blood runs cold through her veins as she recalls the daunting night in question. It's not a memory she likes to think about. Feeling so inundated with uncontained rage that spilled over the brims of her eyes, how she battled with herself to summon courage monumental enough to swallow her boiling anger and make the choice she could live with, it hadn't been easy--especially not with Kogami's pathetic, half-conscious plea for her to strike him dead. It killed her to put the helmet down. 

"That wasn't manipulative," she argues. 

"Yes it was. I told you to kill him because I knew some part of you wanted to. That's manipulation."

"But I didn't kill him."

"That doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does."

Kogami leans back in his chair, sighing in frustration. He looks away from the table and stares at the wall. 

"Can you think of anything else?" she asks. He spends a long moment in thought but comes up with nothing. 

"No." 

"Doing something manipulative one time doesn't inherently make you a manipulative person," she argues. "Do you view the people close to you as tools for personal gain?" 

"Of course not."

"Do you disregard their emotions and treat them however it's convenient for you to?" 

"No." 

"Do you treat them with respect and acknowledge their free will as individuals?" 

"Yes."

"Then that should be enough proof for you," she says firmly. 

He looks back at her finally, and she finds his eyes are strangely void of thought. That's very unlike him. Normally they're swimming with too many. 

There's something else in them that she can't quite pinpoint, but it's unnervingly familiar. 

He doesn't reply; instead he lets her conclusion sit in the air, as though he's uncertain of if he wants to acknowledge it. 

"I can also tell you from firsthand experience that you're not insensitive," she says. "You've always treated me with respect, and I know it wasn't just because I was your superior. You're kind, too, even if you don't think so. It shows in your protectiveness." She pauses to sip her coffee. "Isn't that why you became a detective in the first place? To protect people?" 

That seems to be the right thing to say. 

"You remember words from a letter written all those years ago?" There's a hint of a smirk on his lips as he lifts his mug to them. 

"That must mean you remember writing it.” Here she pauses to carefully consider her words. With her gaze hidden in the sugary concoction, she decides on what she wants to voice. 

"I still have it," she says quietly. "I read it from time to time." Her cheeks feel warm when she speaks, but it's probably just the heat of coffee. 

A few moments pass with both of them staring into their mugs. 

"Wouldn't reading it just make you sad?" he asks.

"It does.” She wears a crestfallen smile that makes him regret stealing a glance at her expression. His gaze sinks back to the table. 

"So then why do something you know is going to make you feel bad?" 

"Sadness isn't always a bad thing," she says. "It just means there was something important to you, and it's okay to miss it." 

He studies the grainy texture on the surface. Was it really that important to her? 

"And just so you know," she quickly adds, "an insensitive person wouldn't have taken the time to write a goodbye letter. Oh, I never got the chance to thank you for it." 

That sparks his interest enough to raise his gaze, where he finds her vulnerable eyes and softened smile staring back at him. His jaw tightens as he grits his teeth, his heart beating uncomfortably fast in his chest. "It helped," she says. "To come to terms with…what happened."

"It was Pops' suggestion," he says. His tone matches his pained expression. "Said those exact words, even."

"Is he one of those things you miss?" she asks. 

"Yeah." 

"Me too."

He doesn't know why he bothers to glance up a second time, because when he does, he's filled with the same dreadful regret as before, gnawing at the cage of ribs and boiling in his stomach. 

Her face is even more pitiful than his surely is, and yet she doesn't seem bothered by it at all. As always, her eyes are ringed with determination and strength, and a gentle kindness coats her irises despite the sadness so prominent in them. 

How is it that she's able to discuss topics as heavy as these without being crushed under the weight of them? 

He wonders if this is the same face she would have worn had he been brave enough to say goodbye to her in person, instead of hiding behind a letter like a coward.

He also wonders whether or not she's forgiven him. He hasn't apologized, and he can't bring himself to. That would mean putting aside his values, going back on what he believes to be right, and taking away any justification he still has for the road he turned down all those years ago that led him here, to the confines of an abandoned cabin in the outskirts of a fallen country's capital. 

Some would call these means of survival pathetic, but at least this way he has freedom. He can't apologize for that; he would be betraying himself if he did. 

But he betrayed _her_ , and he knows that it hurt her somewhere deep down that cannot be undone no matter what he says or does. It hurt him, too. It hurt everyone. 

If he's going to apologize for anything, even if his letter had already served that purpose, he could at least start there. 

When he looks at her again, however, there's a deep sense of calmness radiating from her that eases some of the guilt clawing at his chest. She's perfectly comfortable talking about his letter, about the past, even if it brings her pain. She offers him warm smiles and comforting words. She isn't asking for an apology. She already knows he's sorry and doesn’t need him to say it. 

She truly is a remarkable woman.

\-------

"Catch," he says, tossing Akane a helmet as she strides down the porch steps. Her hands clasp around it reflexively, jumping in surprise. She looks up to find him seated on a sleek, black motorcycle, and he's wearing a helmet that matches the one in her hands. In his lap is a backpack and a half-smoked cigarette sits between his fingers as he pulls it from his lips. 

"Where were you hiding this?" she asks as her eyes widen at the sight of the bike. She definitely doesn't remember seeing it anywhere on the property before. 

"That's a secret," he discloses, after exhaling a dark puff of smoke. 

She doesn't push her question, instead looking down at the helmet in her hands uncertainly. She raises her arms to fit it on her head…only she's putting it on backwards, and Kogami has to suppress a laugh as he quickly stops her. 

"Come here," he says, biting down on the cigarette to free his hands. She moves at his request, and when she's standing in front of him he lifts the helmet and turns it around, then snaps the buckles in place and adjusts the straps. "How's that?" 

"Good, I think," she says. He nods, then hands her the backpack to slide around her shoulders. While she does that, he takes one last drag of his cigarette and drops it to the ground, scuffing it out with the sole of his boot. He then pats the empty seat behind him, gesturing for her to climb on, and she holds onto his shoulder to keep steady as she does so. When she's seated properly he angles his body around to look up at her. 

"Ever ride one of these before?" he asks. She shakes her head. The anxiety must be clear as day on her face, because he drops into a quick lesson that boils down to _just hold onto me and you won't fall_ , which sounds easy enough to her--though it doesn't do much for her nerves. 

She nods when he finishes explaining, and he turns back around to the front and starts the ignition, bringing the engine to life with a loud roar that makes her jump. Despite that, she takes a steady breath and wraps her arms around him to signal that she's ready. 

The bike starts to move as he lifts his feet from the ground. Slowly, it makes its way to the hill where she trekked up to his cabin a couple days prior. He's careful, keeping control as they descend and rapidly gain momentum, and it's maybe a minute more until the tires peel onto the pavement of the road and suddenly they surge forward with a blast of speed that has her hands clasping together around his front. 

Her arms tighten and she closes her eyes, as per his suggestion, but after a few minutes of getting used to the feeling, it's not so bad.

The road runs on for a while, and the brisk wind cracks around them like a whip, the cool October air feeling twice as cold moving at such a high speed. 

Around them the foliage is a mirage of color, blending into a bright orange haze. It's some time before the density of trees gradually becomes sparse, and the number of buildings grows as they approach the inner dwellings of the city. 

Where he takes her looks to be like a farmers market in a large open square, with dozens of tables and stands settled in between colorful buildings, and a bustling crowd of shoppers weaving in and around the tables like ants. 

He leaves the bike in a parking block just a short walk away from the market, and then takes the backpack from her shoulders to sling over his before they make their way over to the square. 

As they approach, Akane notices something about the crowd immediately; it's composed almost entirely of adult men. It takes her a moment of deliberate searching to locate another woman in the crowd, and she's held aggressively close around the shoulders by the arm of a man traveling with her. The woman's eyes are downcast, she notices. Almost fearfully. And it's the same with another woman she spots on the other side of the square, held around the waist with a tight grip. Nor is there a single child anywhere to be seen. 

Akane's brow furrows. 

Kogami notices her expression when a few dirty looks from passersby are thrown their way, and he glances down to see the growing discomfort on Akane's face. He places a hand on her lower back and nudges her closer to his side, and when he leaves it there, mirroring the practice of the other couples she's witnessed, Akane honestly isn't sure if she's supposed to feel protected or possessed. 

As they walk past the stands, she notices the wares for sale on the tables. There are all sorts of items; things like books, tools, clothes, spices, even small scale weapons, such as various knives and handguns.

The one thing she doesn’t see, however, is food. And she had been under the impression--given the meager state of his kitchen--that food is what had brought them all the way out here. 

But her confusion is remedied moments later as he leads her through the crowd, working their way to one of the colorful buildings that surround the square.

As they approach, she can see through a set of glass doors that there's groceries inside, but her attention is overtaken by the two men who stand tall on either side of the door. They're dressed in all black, and they remind her of Kogami and another coworker back home with their intimidatingly bulky figures, evident even through the extra layer of their coats. 

When they pass through the entrance, one of them nods at Kogami, who nods back, like he's wordlessly greeting a friend. 

"Do you know him?" she asks, once they're inside and the door closes behind them. He picks up a basket from the pile that sits beside the door. 

"I've worked with him before," he says, but he doesn't elaborate beyond that. 

"What are they standing out there for?" 

"To prevent theft." His voice hardens, and she can't help but feel like he wants to change the subject. 

"So what do you like to eat?" he asks. His hand falls back into place behind her and he leads her further into the store. 

"I'm not picky," she says. They pass by a few stands on one side of the store with various fruits stacked on top of each other, and along the walls surrounding the fruit stands is a huge variety of vegetables. The other side of the store has tall shelves of dry groceries, with narrow aisles to squeeze as much product in the small space as possible. There’s an area in the back that holds fresh meat and fish. The smell carries all the way to the front of the store. 

There are no signs to indicate what is where, but Kogami seems to know where he’s going, and he must have a mental checklist of all the items he needs, as he leads the way without a word. 

"Do you have to keep doing that?" she asks.

"Doing what?" he asks. 

"Pushing and pulling me around?" 

"That's not what I'm doing." 

"That's what it feels like you're doing."

“I’m just keeping you safe,” he explains. "This area is known for how dangerous it can be."

"Dangerous in what way?" Kogami hesitates, but answers nonetheless, albeit less-than-satisfactorily. 

"Let's just say it's safer if I know exactly where you are at all times." 

“But do you have to be touching me to do that?” The sigh he lets out hints at frustration. 

“The short answer is yes." He busied himself with the task of picking out bags of rice, since he'd used up the last of his supply the night before. He grabs two, one of jasmine and one of a shorter grain, dropping them both into the basket. His gaze pans down at her as his hand returns to its place on her back. 

"You have a favorite food," he says, with a cocky sense of certainty. "So what is it?" 

She studies the shelves around them, scanning down the aisle for something specific, but she doesn't find what she's looking for. 

"I like noodles," she says. "I thought they'd be in this aisle but I don't see them." His eyes flash with recognition and he turns immediately, knowing exactly where to go. He guides her to the next aisle over, where they squeeze past other customers into the tight space to where the noodles are stocked. 

"Pick whatever you'd like," he says. "Just don't bleed me dry."

"If money is a problem, I can pay," she offers. "It's not a big deal."

"No," he says flatly. 

"Yes," she insists. "It's the least I can do to pay you back for letting me stay and for feeding me." 

"I didn’t ask you to pay me back."

But instead of arguing further, Akane fishes her wallet from her coat pocket and shoves it into his, then faces the shelf to survey all of her options, as if to end the discussion there. 

But, stubborn as always, Kogami starts to retract his arm to remove her wallet, but he is stopped when she reaches behind her suddenly to snatch his wrist. She pulls it back around to her side, holding it firmly against her waist. 

Kogami sighs in defeat. He watches her eyes gloss over the various options before she points to some on a shelf above his head that she can't reach. He grabs a package and carefully sets it in the basket. 

"What do you like in your ramen?" he asks. 

"Whatever the chef sees fit, I suppose," she says playfully. 

"Just no mushrooms," he says with a soft smile. 

They stop in the produce section where he grabs some fruits and vegetables, and then again at the meat section in the very back for some beef and mackerel. The last item they pick out isn’t on his list, but rather a spontaneous request of Akane’s before they head to the checkout.

“I don't usually drink,” she says as her eyes search the shelves, "but since I'm on vacation so might as well have fun, right?" He shrugs. He doesn't do a lot of drinking himself these days, but he supposes a vacation is as good an excuse as any. 

After a couple moments of deliberation, Akane pulls out a bottle of red wine from the shelf and turns it over in her hands to read the label. Only a second passes before her gaze shoots up to find his, and she holds the bottle up to him with a question in her eyes. 

He briefly takes it from her to inspect and then hands it back with a translation. 

"It's a merlot." 

She looks at it for a moment, then places it in the basket. She looks back up at him expectantly. 

"What?" 

"Aren't you going to pick one out?" 

He shrugs it off. "I don't need anything."

"You're really going to make me drink alone?" 

"Who's going to take care of you when you're so drunk you're falling out of your chair?" 

"That's a rather bold assumption to make, don't you think?" Her tone is as teasing as her smile.

"It's a logical one, considering your size."

“Size isn't everything," she retorts. He almost chokes on a bark of laughter trying to keep it in. She doesn't seem to notice, or maybe she just doesn't understand his reaction, but moves on regardless. "If you don't pick one I'm going to pick for you. So you might as well get something you like."

A smile bleeds through his attempt to stifle his laughter. He can't argue with that. After taking a minute to browse the shelf for his options, he settles on a golden bottle of whiskey at the bottom. And with both bottles in the basket, they make their way to the cashier near the front and wait in line to be checked out. 

"So what's your favorite food?" she asks while they wait. 

"I don't have a favorite.” 

"You don't expect me to believe that, I'm sure." He glances down at her from the corner of his eye, and while he isn't outright smiling, she can see the hints of one hidden in his gaze. 

He lifts the basket up onto the counter when it's their turn to pay, and he reluctantly pulls her wallet from his pocket to hand the cashier the correct tender after she rings up all the items. A few groceries get stuffed into the backpack, and what doesn't fit the cashier places in a paper bag that Kogami takes by the handle with a nod of thanks. 

On the way out of the store, they're stopped by the two men standing guard who pat them down and check their receipt before they continue on their way. 

"There's one more stop to make," he says. His arm returns to her waist as they step down into the market square. "How's your ankle?" 

"Still fine," she says. He nods, then leads her through the crowd of people to a stand on the other side of the square, nestled near one of the corners. 

He seems to know the man quite well, exchanging a pleasant, friendly greeting with him once they’re within earshot of the table. The man raises his hand in delight, calling back to Kogami with equally friendly fervor, and they immediately break into conversation that she can’t fully understand. So she tunes out the conversation for the most part, other than admiring Kogami’s apparent fluency with the language. She busies herself with studying the items lying on the table, which displays few tools and small sporting goods, things like fish hooks and rope, wondering what it is Kogami wants to purchase.

Though she doesn’t understand most of what’s being said, Akane catches a few instances of a word she does know, and when she looks up, the man is looking at her with scornful eyes that flash away once she meets his gaze. His tone is suspiciously lewd as he speaks, and follows his words with a condescending bark of laughter. Kogami’s fingers stiffen, digging into her waist.

Is he talking about her?

She interjects the conversation with one phrase she does know, saying 'excuse me?' with an irritated eyebrow raised at the man. Immediately his expression sours and his eyes turn back to her, his gaze dropping and flitting nauseatingly slowly across her figure, before they slide back to look at Kogami.

It’s no longer just his hand that’s tense; Akane feels his whole body tighten beside hers. But his expression remains neutral. The man says something else, his tone riddled with disgust. 

Kogami replies in a deceptively calm and collected manner despite his rigidity. The man scoffs, letting a breathy laugh slip through his cracked smile, as though Kogami has just told him the funniest joke he’s heard all morning. His hand dives into a pocket on the apron he wears, fiddling around inside for a moment before he yanks out a few pieces of paper and shoves them in Kogami's palm.

He says something more but his eyes are fixed on Akane again, glossing over her figure a second time and stopping just short of her face. Her furrowed brow deepens but it goes ignored as the conversation is wrapped up and the man waves goodbye to Kogami, and he all but yanks her away as they retreat back into the crowd.

Neither of them say anything about the exchange until they’re on their way back to his cabin. It’s still painfully quiet when they reach the bike. When he shrugs out of the backpack and hands it to her to don for the trip back, her face is tense and bubbling with anger. She takes it from him wordlessly, avoiding his eyes. 

He can’t think of anything to say, so he pulls out the helmets and climbs onto the bike, and then they’re peeling off down the road moments later without a word.

It isn’t until they reach the blanket of trees, signaling the return to the mountains, that she pats him on the shoulder and asks him to pull over. He does, and while he cuts the engine she yanks off her helmet.

“What the hell was all that about?!” she yells. He isn’t expecting such a fiery attitude from her so he recoils, twisting his body around to face her. Her face is red and her eyes are narrowed dangerously. He removes his helmet and holds it in his lap.

“You can’t wait until we get back to talk about it?” he asks.

“What was he saying about me?”

Kogami closes his eyes. His own anger had begun to cool off while driving, and he isn't keen on reigniting it nor does he want to end up arguing in the middle of nowhere. As he opens his mouth to explain this, she cuts him off.

“Nevermind that,” she snaps. “I want to know why you were enabling him. That was so demeaning. What the hell was that about?”

“That’s how it is here,” he argues. “That’s what I was trying to protect you from.”

“But you were going along with it.”

“How?”

“You weren’t exactly telling him to shove it up his ass, or whatever it is you say when someone pisses you off,” she argues.

“I can't do that, not to him.”

“Why not? Do you agree with him?”

“Of course not!”

“So why didn’t you say something?”

"Because he’s one of the only people around here who help me out and let me work for the shit I need. I’m not exactly swimming in cash.”

“But why would you want to even _associate_ with a guy like that?”

“Why the hell do you think I stay out in the middle of nowhere and mind my own business?”

“You 'minding your own business' is being complacent to that kind of… despicable behavior,” she snaps. Her voice is starting to sound strained. "By saying nothing, you’re enabling it!”

“What other options do I have? Sibyl isn't here, Akane. This isn't a civilized nation. Resources are limited. You do what you need to in order to survive; that's what the real world is like. It's ugly. It doesn't revolve around an arbitrary computer program that governs a population like livestock in a cage."

Akane’s eyes harden. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. 

“Look, it wasn't all that long ago that you were fighting on a battlefield that wasn’t even _yours_ , fighting on the side of strangers, leading them, helping them, teaching them,” she says, working to keep her voice steady despite her wavering emotions. “You fought with them because they were being oppressed even though it had nothing to do with you. You fought with them because you wanted to help them. Don't you remember that?”

Kogami stares down at her, his gaze just as cold and icy as hers.

“And just now, you witnessed oppression happening right in front you to someone you _know_. You were standing right there and you did nothing. Am I… am I not that important to you?" 

His gaze shifts away from hers, falling somewhere to the foliage in front of him. His jaw feels tight enough to slice through a sheet of metal. 

"Do you really have nothing to say?" she asks, almost pleading. "What happened to the man who fought off bullies to protect his friend, who helped up a factory worker he'd never met who was getting bullied, who risked his life protecting my kidnapped best friend… what happened to the man I knew who used to _want_ to help people?" she asks. 

He stares at her for a long, quiet moment. The wind blowing around them feels just as cold as his glare. 

Without a word, he puts his helmet back on and starts the engine. Then he reaches for hers and sticks it on her head, snapping the buckles and quickly turning around to lurch the bike forward before she can take it off, forcing her to snake her arms around him to stay on. 

The ride back to the cabin is long and painfully silent, save for the roar of the engine. 

\---------

She doesn't speak to him until the evening rolls around. The rest of the day had passed with her ignoring his presence when he wasn't hiding in the garden, and half-hearted attempts to distract herself when she was alone. She'd finished her book, refolded some clothes in her suitcase, and almost talked herself into tackling some case reports on her laptop before she vehemently rejected the idea; she's on vacation--so no working. 

She thought about starting another novel, but something about searching through his collection again felt too treacherous to her need for a distraction; she was mad at him, and so she wanted little to do with him for the time being. 

She had also thought about taking a walk to cool off and use up some of her restless energy. But her ankle posed a problem; Kogami had warned her that morning how it wasn't fully healed, and it wouldn't be for a couple more days at least. Excessive walking ran the risk of slowing the healing process, so she had decided against that, too. 

When Kogami finally comes back inside at sunset, he finds Akane seated at the table with an old chess board spread out in front of her, her head propped up by an elbow planted into the table, her lips cemented in a frown. His brow raises. 

"Where did you find that?" he asks as he shrugs out of his coat. Her hand moves a piece from one square to another, but she doesn't look up at him, nor does she give him an answer. 

So she's still mad at him. Fantastic. 

It isn't until he sits across from her a few minutes later, setting between them two icy glasses of whiskey, that she acknowledges his presence with a flit of her eyes before they retreat back to the chess board, setting a white piece down to complete her move. 

Before she can turn the board to switch colors, Kogami makes a play for Black. He's hesitant, watching her face carefully for changes in her expression as he does so. 

A silent request. 

For a moment, he doesn't think she's going to oblige, not with how she stares at the board with fumes in her eyes. But then, slowly, she lifts her hand from her lap and moves her next piece. 

Request accepted. 

"I'm sorry," he says as he makes his next move. Immediately Akane's face softens, but the frame of her body holds onto its stiffness and her eyes continue to stare at the board.

"I was being a coward," he continues. He pauses, watching her hand hover above the pieces in strategic thought. He sighs. "Do you remember what you said to me that night in SEAUn?" 

"When the camp was attacked?" she asks. A small part of him is relieved she's speaking to him again. 

"Yes," he says. 

"What are you referring to specifically?"

"When you said that I have a natural tendency to draw people in." 

"What about it?" 

"You were comparing me to Makishima." He picks up his glass of whiskey and takes a small swig from the top. His voice holds an edge that mirrors the way someone would describe the smell of feces. 

"How the people in the camp would look to me as a leader," he continues. He stares into his golden liquid like he's watching a memory play out in its reflection. "How they put me on some sort of pedestal, the way Makishima’s followers did to him. Being in a similar position as him scared the hell out of me, so I left. But wherever I went, it kept happening. There's war everywhere these days--either active violence or recovering from it. Every place I went, I tried to help people. And every time it landed me in the same spot. I kept getting too close to what you described that night. So eventually I stopped helping.”

"Why does that scare you so much?" she asks. "Being similar to Makishima?" 

It takes him some time to answer. But even then he can't offer much. 

"I don't know," he says. It's a bit strange to hear those words coming from the mouth of someone who almost always has the answers. "My point is, I was letting my insecurities and selfishness get the best of me, and I made you feel unimportant because of that. I’m sorry."

The knot in her stomach starts to unwind. Slowly, her eyes creep from their fixed state on the chess board to look at him. 

"There's a famous saying that goes, 'if you choose to be silent in the face of oppression, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.' I realize now that's what I've been doing, and you're right to call me out on it. I'm sorry for subjecting you to that. It won't happen again."

She thinks on his words for a long moment, and in the meantime she makes another move on the board. 

"Before I accept your apology, is there anything else you want to add?" Akane asks. Kogami finally looks up from his glass with confusion, surprised to see her looking back at him. 

"Is there something I missed?" 

"No," she laughs. "It's just… it's not very often that you say a whole lot at once, or talk about yourself, really." He chuckles. 

"Are you still mad at me?" he asks. She sighs.

"No," she answers. “I guess not.”

"Then are you hungry?" 

She nods. He stands and heads for the kitchen, and returns a minute later with two steaming bowls of ramen. No mushrooms. It's delicious. She sips on the glass of whiskey in between a couple bites, but by the time the both of them are finished eating, Kogami has emptied his glass. 

He takes their dishes to the kitchen to clean up, and when he returns he brings the entire bottle of whiskey with him, refilling his glass, topping off hers when she holds it out to him, and sets it to the side. 

"Shall we finish where we left off?" he asks, gesturing with his hand to the chess board. 

"I don't remember whose turn it is," she says. 

"We can start over." After they reset the pieces back to each side, Kogami starts to turn the board around, but pauses and looks up at her. 

"Do you mind?" he asks. 

"Switching colors?” she asks. “No, I don't. White seems more fitting for you, anyway." 

"What makes you say that?" 

"Well White goes first," she explains after sipping from her drink. "Both players have an equal chance of winning, but whoever goes first has the power to decide the dynamic of the game. They get the choice of taking the offense or defense from the very first move. It's like taking the lead, in a sense. It's more proactive. And to me that's more your style." Kogami chuckles.

"It's funny. I was thinking the same about you."

"How so?" 

"Playing as Black is more reactive, and tends to involve a little more observation and careful planning, which aligns more with your approach." 

"I guess you're right," she says with a laugh.

When they finish with a draw after a game of heated back and forth, Akane starts to put the pieces away, dropping them into the cardboard box little handfuls at a time, but then she stops suddenly. When he glances over at her she's staring down at the table, but her eyes seem distant, little she's looking through it rather than at it. 

"Kogami," she says quietly. He hums from his slouched stature in his chair, turning his eyes away to watch the ice melt in his glass. "Earlier, when that man was talking about me, what did he say?" 

Kogami freezes. He had been hoping she wouldn't ask. After a rather forceful drink, he sets the glass on the tabletop roughly as he sighs. 

"You really don't want to know," he says, his voice low and heated.

"You don't get to decide that for me," she snaps. "I want to know what he said."

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, sitting up straighter to lean on the table with one hand curled into a fist and the other gripping the base of his glass. 

"If it made me as angry as it did, I can only imagine how angry it will make you." After the words tumble out of his mouth, he's unsure why he said them. He knows that it will only further pique her curiosity rather than deter it, proven by the silent moment of her patience that follows. 

Before he continues, he shoots back the rest of what's in his glass. The burn in his throat is nothing compared to the fiery anger that's reigniting at his core. 

"It's vulgar," he warns her. 

"I figured as much." 

He hesitates, clenching his jaw in thought. She is right; it's her right to know and he feels obligated to tell her. But she doesn't know what she's asking him to say. The thought of repeating those words, especially to her face, is excruciating.

Akane notices his hesitance, evident by the tense posture of his frame looming over the table. But, to his dismay, she doesn't spare him. 

One of her hands comes to rest on his fist. It's warm, reassuring, encouraging. He stares at it like it's an anchor, the only thing keeping him steady in a crushing ocean of wrath. 

"I don't need a verbatim translation," she says softly. "I just want to know." He sighs.

While he speaks, his gaze locks like a target on her hand. 

"I asked him about climbing equipment," he says. His rough tone drips darkly with scorn. "He said he'd ask around for me. Then he looked at you and asked if you were going to suck him off as payment. He was pissed when you spoke and referred to you as an 'it' when he asked if I was sure I wanted to fuck you. Then he laughed when I corrected him, saying you were just a friend, and--"

He pauses to shove his hand in his pocket, fishing out the now-wrinkled pieces of paper and dumping them on the table. 

"--gave me these. He said I should take you on a date, saying that you could use a good punishment."

"What does that mean?" she asks. Her tone is shockingly calm and steady despite the nature of their conversation. "How is a date supposed to be a punishment?" 

He swallows thickly, forcing down a lump in his throat.

"The implication is that it’s followed with non-consensual sex," he explains. His fist starts to tremble, prompting her to squeeze reassuringly to hold it still. "It's an abuse tactic. Having a positive experience beforehand softens the blow of what comes after. It associates positivity with being controlled or abused."

A wave of shame falls over him then, as he realizes exactly Akane was talking about earlier when she scolded him. 

He had been an enabler. She was right to ask him why he would want to be associated with anyone who thinks trading anybody like shit is okay. He's known this disgusting behavior is the norm around here since he arrived, and yet he's tolerated it only because of his privilege, because it never affected him. Sure, it bothered him, but not enough to actually do anything. It wasn't until that behavior was expected of him that he realized how truly fucked up it is, nor did he realize how much of an utter shit stain he was to stand there, suppressing his anger, and watch Akane be objectified like that until she called him out on it. 

"That's…" Her voice trails off while she searches for the right word. 

Horrifying? Repulsive? Evil? All of the above? 

"...sad. That's really sad,” she mutters, staring pensively at their hands. A melancholy ring shapes her eyes. “These poor women really have to live being treated like that."

What confuses him isn’t her reaction. Akane has always been empathetic, even to strangers; it’s one of her most admirable traits that’s been at the forefront of her character ever since he’d met her. Anybody who knows Akane can be certain that will never change. 

What confuses him is how her empathy seems to bring her more pain than her own heinous experience. He’s busy thinking about how badly he wants to knock the lights out of his vendor and force him to apologize from the underside of her boot, meanwhile Akane is more concerned about the plight of strangers she’s never met. She’s always putting others before herself. How she manages to do it even at the hands of violent misogyny is beyond him.

The dangers of unending selflessness aside, her ability to liberate herself from anger is something he’d never felt particularly jealous of until now. 

"Thank you for telling me," she says, prying him out of his thoughts. She squeezes his clenched fist one last time before her hand retreats to her lap. "I know it wasn't easy." 

"You seem a lot less angry about it than I thought you'd be."

"Don’t get me wrong; I am angry,” she says. “But it already happened and I can't change that. And I have faith it won't happen again." He finds the nerve in him to look up and meet her unfairly forgiving gaze. 

"It won't." His eyes harden. That's a promise he intends on keeping. 

"So what are these, anyway?" she asks, swiping one of the crumpled papers to inspect it. He can’t tell if she’s intentionally trying to distract him by the abrupt turn in conversation, or if she’s simply uncomfortable with where it was headed, but he goes along with the change regardless. He picks up the other paper and smooths it out with his fingers to read the print. 

"They're vouchers for an apple orchard." He tosses the garbage back to the table like it burns his fingertips. That's all it is as far as he's concerned. Akane seems to think differently. 

"That could be fun," she says hopefully. "Why don't we use them?" 

He scoffs at the idea.

"I think we should go," she insists. "You majored in psychology, right?" Close enough of a guess. He nods anyway. "He gave them to you with a malicious intention, but you can take that away from him and use it your own way instead. Turn a negative into a positive, or at least a neutral. Honestly, it's something that would benefit you if you learned how to do it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Wallowing in negativity is what ultimately led to your crime coefficient suffering, isn't it?" 

"You really don't hold back anymore, do you?" She shrugs apologetically, but he can tell it's half-hearted. Still, she has a point. 

"Only if you want to go," he says finally. She smiles softly and nods.

"But skipping the punishment part, of course," she says.

"What if it's consensual?" He blames the whiskey. 

"That's not funny," she snaps. But despite her deflection, there's a rosy tint filling the tops of her cheeks. He'll blame the whiskey for that, too. 

"Your loss," he says with a shrug, smirking shamelessly nonetheless. He stares at her untouched glass still sitting half-full in front of her. "Are you going to finish that?" 

She scoots it his way with a careful swipe of her hand. 

"Knock yourself out," she says with a chuckle. "I don’t like it, to be honest."

"It's an acquired taste," he insists. 

"If you say so."

While he tackles working down the golden liquid, Akane revisits the task of putting away the chess game. When she's finished, she gets up to put it away in a closet where she found it.

"There is something else I've been meaning to ask," she says when she returns. She slips back into her chair across from him, pulling her legs up to criss cross them in her seat. "How did you end up here?" 

"In Spain?" 

"No, I mean here, in this cabin. I can't imagine it was just abandoned with all this stuff in it up for grabs."

"It was," he says. "Lots of homes are abandoned around here."

"But how did you find this place all the way out in the mountains?" 

"Fucking bastard in town told me about it," he gripes. "He knew the couple that lived here before. They were young--eloped when they found out the wife was pregnant. She died in childbirth, the kid didn't make it, and the husband killed himself after."

"Oh my god," she says. "That's horrible." Kogami nods solemnly. 

"At least they seemed happy." 

"What makes you say that?" 

"People don't off themselves for losing property, at least what they're supposed to regard as property by this society's standards, anyway," he explains. "Now losing someone you love… I wouldn't do it myself, but I suppose I can understand it."

"I don't," she says. "It's not easy, but you learn to move on. Or you learn to survive."

"You sound like you're talking from experience."

"I am," she admits. But she doesn't seem to want to talk about it much, with the way her body grows tense and how her stare shifts to her lap. He's about to change the subject but she beats him to it. "I also don't understand the appeal of being pregnant."

He laughs, taken aback by the new subject matter. Not where he was going to take it, but he can run with it. 

"Why's that?" 

"Do you want something growing inside of you like a parasite for nearly a year of your life, where the only way to get it out is through a consciously sedated surgery or by slowly squeezing it out of you for fifteen hours straight? Sometimes longer?" He fails to hold in another bark of laughter that rips from his chest so loudly it makes her jump.

"You make a fair argument," he says. "But you're tough. You could handle it."

"Just because I could doesn't mean I want to," she argues. Then her gaze falls again. "I can't, anyway."

"Why not?" 

"I was diagnosed with uterine cancer a couple years ago," she says. "I had to have a hysterectomy."

He can't explain why, but his hand curls tightly around the base of the glass. 

"I didn't know that," he says. 

"I'd be surprised if you did," she laughs. "I'm fine now. But even though I've never wanted to be pregnant, it was still difficult to adjust knowing that I couldn't be. It was hard to accept that I no longer had an option." He knows very well what that's like. 

"You could always adopt," he says. She shakes her head sadly.

"It's a little too late for me, I think." Her voice is tight, he notices. 

"Why is that? You're still pretty young." She swallows thickly.

"I just don't have the time for it. I couldn't parent by myself, either. I've got enough on my plate as it is."

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

"Not really.” She shakes her head before raising it to look at him. “What about you? Have you ever thought about having kids?" 

"A long time ago, maybe. But with how much crap I've seen in this world, I'm not sure it's worth bringing a kid into it." 

"The world could change," she says hopefully. 

"Under the right circumstances, maybe."

"What do you think those circumstances would be?" 

"Start with abolishing the Sibyl System," he states.

"It has its flaws," she agrees. "But it does serve a good purpose."

"An intention is only as good as its execution."

Her mouth falls open to argue further, only a yawn escapes instead. Her face scrunches cutely while it passes. It’s then that he takes notice of the pitch black sky behind her with eyes that struggle to stay open, and he knows the whiskey isn’t only to blame. 

"This is too complicated a conversation to have this late at night," he says. "Why don't we pick it up tomorrow?" 

"It's already tomorrow," she laughs, stealing a glance at the comm on her wrist. "You should drink some water before you go to sleep." 

He obliges, but as he stands, a pressing need from his bladder steers him straight to the bathroom instead. She takes care of their glasses and the bottle of whiskey in his absence. Another yawn from her can be heard all the way from the other room, and only a few seconds pass before he’s yawning too. 

It dawns on him then that it’s been a long time since he’s stayed up this late. When it was more regular for him it was because he’d accidentally read too far into the night, or because he was forced to ration his sleep when he didn’t have a place to let his guard down. Staying up late talking isn’t his prefered way to pass the time, but at least Akane had made it enjoyable.

The first aid kit on the shelf catches his eye when he dries his hands. 

“Hey,” he calls out, reaching for the kit to pull it down. “Come here.”

“What?” she calls back, followed by a laugh. “Did you forget how to unlock the door?” The growing volume of her voice peaks when she’s standing on the other side of the door, and he pushes it open to let her in.

“I don’t lock it,” he says. He sets the kit down on the counter and flips it open.

“You’re not worried someone is going to walk in on you?”

“No one else here but you.” He glimpses over at her with a leery look in his eyes. “And I know you’re too shy to do that.” The way her face immediately contorts into a riled, reddening manner makes him crack a half-smile. She’s way too easy to tease.

“What did you want?” she huffs. She leans against the counter with her arms crossed over her chest.

“I want to take a look at your hand,” he says. He gestures for it, so she pulls the bandaged limb from the pretzel of her arms and holds it out to him. He takes it gently, then carefully unwinds the bandage and discards it to the trash bin beside the counter. 

Upon closer inspection, the cut still appears to be healing just fine, but he decides to clean it anyway. The bathroom is small, so he has her sit on the counter so he can more easily contain the mess of dripping water as he cleans her wound.

The undying redness on her face doesn’t go unnoticed as he stands so close to her, but he’s kind enough to not say anything about it. It makes the silence feel heavier, however.

“Do you still live by yourself?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says. She keeps her eyes fixed on his movements as he dips her palm beneath the running stream of water and dabs carefully around the wound with a cloth. “Why?”

“Just wondering if you normally lock your bathroom door even though you live alone.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why is that?” She’s quiet for a moment while she thinks of an answer.

“I guess I got into the habit when I had to move,” she says. “My apartment was broken into during a case and I didn’t even know about it, not until Candy pointed out some noise in the hologram. I had to relocate after. I guess that unnerving feeling stayed with me.”

"Did you ever find out who did it?" he asks. He turns the cloth over to dry her skin. 

"Yes," she says. "I knew who did it at the time. Nobody believed me, though. They thought I faked it." 

"What do you mean nobody believed you?" 

"Everyone on my team thought I was making it up."

"Why?" 

"They were convinced I was obsessed and seeing something that wasn't there. Like a ghost, I suppose." He knows exactly how that feels. He also knows the feeling he can see in her eyes. Mental isolation is it's own kind of hell. 

"I would have believed you," he says.

"I know." She smiles sadly. He doesn't like seeing her this way. 

When he finishes wrapping the bandage, he gives the top of her hand a pat. 

"Thank you," she says. He steps back so she can hop down from the counter. On her way out of the bathroom, she glances over her shoulder to comment, "you're surprisingly unguarded when you're drunk." Kogami just shrugs. He flips off the light as he follows her out.

"That's why I don't drink."

"You should consider seeing a therapist one of these days."

"It’s not really my thing,” he says. Akane sighs. 

"I know." 

She turns back to switch off the light above the table while he heads for the stairs. 

"See you in the morning," he says. 

"Goodnight."

Once he's upstairs, he shrugs out of his shirt and collapses sideways on the bed. The room starts to spin around him, prompting him to clench his eyes shut. Then he realizes too late. as his lids refuse to open again, that he forgot to drink water like she suggested. But when he wakes up a couple hours later, groggy and disoriented in the middle of the night, his throat is dry as hell, and there's a glass of water filled to the brim sitting on the nightstand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I didn't expect this chapter to take so long; it looks drastically different from the first draft. It was also incredibly difficult to keep under 12k words (not that any of you would be complaining, right?) but I hope you liked it regardless. I'm currently on spring break and hoping to take advantage of it to get the next chapter underway, along with being stuck at home for the time being. Hopefully it will be ready to post within a month from now? That's my goal, anyway, but no promises.
> 
> Please, make sure you're social-distancing and staying safe at this time. It's very important that we all take precautionary measures to reduce the spread of covid. We're going to get through this; stay home and wash your hands.


	3. Paralyzed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extremely disproportionately-lengthed chapters in _my_ fics? It's more likely than you think! 
> 
> On a more serious note, this chapter was brought to you by channeled rage from an American woman who is deeply concerned about the safety of protestors who are rebelling against institutionalized racism in my country. I'm limited in what I can do personally so forcing this chapter out is how I'm coping with distress, and as you're reading you will probably be able to tell. It's rushed in some places and weaker in others, and I know I don't need to apologize for this but I am sorry this chapter can't currently be the best it has the potential to be. Despite all of that however, I hope it still provides a nice distraction to anyone who needs it right now. And please, if you have been protesting, please stay safe.

One of the numerous perks that come with vacation is the luxury of sleeping in, although the practice has never come naturally to Akane. Many years of working hard and maintaining a healthy psycho-pass required her to build and stick to a daily routine, and part of that routine included starting her days off early. Despite this habit, Akane initially held hope that maybe, because she was taking a break from normal life, she could let herself be a _little_ lazy in the morning. But her body doesn’t seem to be on the same page.

Her heavy lids pry themselves open much too early, leaving Akane defenseless to the ghost of a sunrise peering in through the window, casting gentle golden rays on her face until she yanks the blanket up to use as a shield. With a sigh of relief, her eyes flutter closed in an attempt to fall back asleep. But her stomach, churning with nausea, forces them back open moments later before she can steal another minute of rest. Although half of her longs to sleep it off, Akane knows a hangover can't treat itself and will only continue to bother her unless she gets up. Balled fists rub her closed lids as she sits up straight, resigning herself to catching up on sleep later when she can nap. So much for being lazy.

The blankets are kicked to the foot of her makeshift bed into a heap, then folded and draped over the back of the sofa when she stands. Then, after a quick change of clothes, she stumbles into the kitchen in search of toast to settle her stomach and coffee to relieve the throbbing ache under her eyes. 

The cold makes its first appearance as she waits for her bread to toast. 

While Akane leans against the counter and sips on water to help quell her nausea, she thinks about how it’s been a long time since she’s had such a calm morning, one without the urgency of getting ready fast enough to beat traffic on the way to work, or without the threat of being late as she's hurrying to meet up with friends on time looming over her head.

But the moment her thoughts linger on the idea of home, of the normalcy she's become so accustomed to, two things happen: first, the knot of guilt from yesterday resurfaces, bringing with it a grim reminder of what awaits her when she returns. The knot intensifies the sloshing of her stomach, so she swallows a few generous gulps to subside the churning, squeezing her eyes shut as she wills it to calm down. But what's more distressing is a sudden frigid chill that makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up, as Akane senses the feeling of someone watching her. Slowly, clutching the butter knife for her toast in hand and with bated breath, she turns around. 

An empty kitchen stares back at her. She tosses a glance at the window over the sink to see if anyone had passed by it, even though she would have seen them from where she stood. But there's no one in the room except for her and the low humming of the refrigerator. 

Right then, the toaster pops. She jumps. It's just bread, she reminds herself. She swipes the slices from the appliance to butter them while they’re still hot.

Kogami doesn’t have much of a selection for spreads. After spending a few moments hunting through the refrigerator, Akane settles on a half-empty jar of peach preserves sitting on the bottom shelf. But when she brings it back to the counter, the lid seems to be stuck in place as it won’t budge with her first few attempts to open it. An old trick learned from her mother comes to mind, and so she flips on the faucet in the sink as hot as it will go, waits a moment, then tests the temperature with her palm. But like the shower, the water runs cold--lukewarm at best, really--and doesn’t get any warmer no matter how long she lets it run, so her plan to cheat the jar open with science is foiled. Instead she settles for wrapping a towel around the lid and trying with all her might to twist it open.

Apparently her strength isn’t enough because the lid still doesn’t budge. The only thing she manages to accomplish is aggravating the cut on her palm, which stings sharply under her grip. She lets go of the jar immediately and stares at it with annoyance, rubbing the bandage soothingly until the stinging subsides.

“Need some help?” a voice suddenly asks from directly behind her. 

Despite its uncanny familiarity, Akane, still on edge, flinches at the sound. Brash instinct acts on impulse first--even as she recognizes the voice as belonging to Kogami--and she twists around with poised arms ready to strike in self defense. But luckily just as before, he reacts immediately with impressive speed, catching her wrist in his palm. 

Then, as she’s lowering her guard, a loud clatter startles her a second time thanks to the harsh force of her body hitting the counter as she spins, knocking the jar into the sink. She jumps and gasps at the sound, her free hand gripping the counter behind her with white knuckles. 

“Easy,” Kogami says calmly. The sound of his voice is soothing. His skin is warm as he wraps his hand around her wrist and takes the other clinging to the counter, then slowly lowers her hands until they hang between the both of them. As he moves, Akane focuses on taking long, slow breaths until her heart slows down to a normal pace and the knit in her brow smooths over. His unusually close proximity makes it difficult to hold his gaze, so instead she studies the woven pattern of fibers in the fabric of his shirt laying loosely over the strong curves of his collar bones. Then the prickling chill on the back of her neck scurries away. 

"You okay?" he asks, once her breathing slows to a normal pace. It's difficult to discern an answer right away; on the surface she feels fine, but something unsettling lingers somewhere that she can't quite pinpoint. Whatever that feeling was, it was very strange. 

A nod to signal that she's fine isn't convincing, so Akane swallows the lump forming in her throat before she braves herself enough to look up at him, to convince him she's alright. She finds his steel eyes hardened with concern, yet somehow cordial and inviting at the same time, as if encouraging honesty he knows she won't relinquish otherwise. His fingers don't let her free just yet. 

“That’s two days in a row,” he says. A raised brow and troubled tone reveal the hidden truth beneath his comment. He's noticing a pattern, picking up on clues she doesn't realize she's leaving behind. The man truly is a detective at his core. 

“I’m fine,” she repeats. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all.” 

His face seems to split through the middle. On one half, the lower half, a corner of his lip raises in a slight half-smile, as if to assure her that he believes her. He doesn't intend to inquire further, to push her into a corner and pry out her secrets one by one; they're hers to keep. But on the upper half the delicate lines rimming his eyes crinkle, as though he can detect traces of the piercing chill that held her on edge. Unlike Akane, Kogami knows it's still there; he can sense it, but he can’t see it. But he’s looking for it, searching her eyes for any break in the walls she holds up around it, around her secret. He wonders if she realizes the two are connected. 

A long minute passes. Akane isn't worn down in the slightest by his searching eyes, so he backs away, resigning to hunting for clues in the shadows. He releases her wrists to reach for the jar, which lays on its side in the sink, and Akane steps sideways to get out of his way as he leans forward. Her fingers absentmindedly rub the skin where he touched her. But they don’t replicate his warmth. 

With the towel in hand, Kogami wipes down the sides of the jar before tossing it back on the counter, then twists the jar open with apparent ease. Akane stares with repressed envy, taking the jar from him when he hands it to her. He keeps the lid to scrub out the grime trapped inside the rim so it doesn't get stuck again.

“Thank you,” she says. She sets the jar down on the counter and makes brisk work of spreading the preserves over her toast. Her stomach growls excitedly when it gets wind of the sugary scent wafting from the jar. Once the lid is dried, Kogami takes the jar and screws it back on, then heads to the fridge to put it away for her as a resounding crunch of toast fills the room. 

The acute scent of fresh coffee draws his attention to the counter, and that’s when he notices an empty mug sitting precariously beside a bottle of pain reliever pills in front of the coffee maker. Just like the glass of water. Kogami glances over to find her back turned to him while she eats, so he gets to keep the appreciative upturn of his lips to himself. 

\--------

They decide to leave for the orchard while it's early to avoid any crowds, though he won't elaborate on why this is his preference. Akane merely agrees because the sooner they get back, the sooner she can curl up on the sofa and nap--but the suspicious curiosity in her eyes over his refusal is not lost on him. With her, the question will surely arise later. 

Kogami heads outside first to smoke and prepare the bike while Akane cleans up after herself in the kitchen, washing the dishes and wiping down the counter. When she’s all finished and ready, with her shoes slipped on and coat shrugged in place, she makes her way out the front door, where a warm gust of wind greets her to carry over the crass scent of his cigarette.

He sits on the bike once again, the same as yesterday, chapped lips parted by the cigarette. A helmet sits on his lap, and in his hands is her cell phone, which he borrowed to look up directions. Behind him the backpack reserves her spot with the spare helmet perched on top. 

“It’s warmer today,” she comments as she approaches. His gaze rests appreciatively on the treetops dancing in the breeze in place of an answer. He snubs out his smoke in the grass and hands back her cell phone before they take off. 

The route is essentially the same as if they were heading to the market, only a little longer with a different turn at the fork in the road. There's another turn he makes when they slow to a stop sign at a four-way intersection, and down that road that a large barn eventually comes into view, prefaced with a giant wooden sign bearing a massive apple painted in red, making it difficult to miss. Once parked, they make their way inside the barn, which has been converted into a miniature shopping center. There’s a small restaurant near the ticket stand where they exchange the vouchers for brown drawstring sacks, and on their way out the back to the orchard, they pass by a small gift shop fused with a bakery, whose savory aroma is so strong it fills the entire building and sticks to their clothes, even when they step outside into the wind.

Along with the bags, Kogami was handed a small pamphlet that shows a detailed map of the orchard when he unfolds it. He holds it up close to study it for a moment, glancing up and observing their surroundings to orient their location accordingly. Once that's figured out, he lowers the pamphlet so that Akane can take a look, where he points and reads out loud the various sections that he can translate. 

As far as where they should hit up for picking, Akane doesn't have any preference one way or the other so she lets Kogami take his pick, which is fine by him. He wasn't initially sure what they would do with the apples once they finished here, since there would be way too many to eat before they spoil, but reading through the different types gave him an idea. He quickly locates the sections in mind, mapping them in his head, then he refolds the map and tucks it into his coat pocket. 

"There's a bit of walking involved," he says, stealing a glance at her ankle while he speaks. "Think you're up for it?" 

She nods with a gentle smile, but her eyes are curiously sly around the edges. "I can always make you carry me if it becomes a problem," she says, as if it's supposed to be some sort of threat of cruel punishment to be bestowed upon him for her potential pain. Though when he thinks about it, he does hold some fault for her injury, so the threat isn't exactly misplaced. 

Kogami chuckles, then glances around them to check their surroundings as he opens his arm to wrap around her waist, to keep her close and keep her safe, holding the empty sacks in his other hand. Akane accepts this gesture until they start walking, where suddenly her body tenses and she steps out of his embrace, snatching his wrist in a tight grip and holding it away firmly. Confused, Kogami turns, finding Akane staring up at him with a strange look of acrimony in her eyes. 

“Not this again,” she says pointedly. For a brief moment he isn't sure what she's referring to, but he remembers very quickly. Yesterday, in the store, her voice sounded just as irritated as it does now. Pushed and pulled around--that's how she described it. 

Of course he wants to respect her boundaries, but what she's asking of him makes him uneasy. She doesn't know about the danger she's in just being here. If he's being brutally honest, Akane is lucky her solo journey on the bus route didn't end in catastrophe. He knows he should tell her this, but after their argument yesterday and seeing her so jumpy this morning, he's worried how she might react. 

“It’s for your protection," he insists. There's a pleading note to his voice that he can see through her eyes tugs on her heartstrings, as though she wants to give in, but respectfully so, she doesn't. 

“No." Kogami sighs. She doesn't need to tell him twice. 

“Alright," he says. "But you're not leaving my sight. That's not up for discussion." At the firm tone of his voice her grip loosens, he moves to step backward to let her take the lead and walk in front of him, pulling his arm free. But interestingly, her fingers then tighten, keeping him rooted in place. 

“Wait,” Akane says. He does. 

She avoids his patient eyes as she stares at the grass. A long moment passes. The conflict plastered all over his face must have been as clear as day, because she seems to have a change of mind; as she lets go of his wrist, she surprises him by slipping her hand down into his palm, forcing her fingers in between his. Once they're settled in place, she says, "We can compromise."

Looking down at their intertwined hands, he can't help but study them. His is bigger of course, but while her hand is smaller, softer, more petite, her grip isn't anything of the sort. It's strong. Her skin is warm and balmy, and it sucks the tension from him just as it did to his angry fist, weaning the sharp edges of his guard, all while being tucked into the safe folds of his fingers. A compromise. 

While he doesn't completely understand her disdain for him holding her at the waist, he's beginning to, if this is her preference. This feels much less imposing, but more importantly, it's her choice. 

“Alright,” he says softly. And with that, they head into the orchard.

Though the section they're heading for is near the back of the property, the walk doesn't feel terribly long as they trek along the path. There isn't much conversation to be had since they're both tired and a little hungover--mostly him--but it isn't uncomfortable. The silence is filled by the crushing of dirt and pebbles beneath their feet as well as the mellow chirping of birds that hide in the trees and occasionally fly overhead. He steals a hidden glance at her as they walk but finds hers turned away; she's studying the signs labeling each section as they pass them, watching the birds in the trees clinging to branches blowing with the wind, fixing her bangs that come untucked from behind her ears when the wind picks up. Then he remembers to be on guard, and shifts his gaze somewhere else. 

"How much longer do you think it will be?" Akane asks after some time has passed.

"Not much longer. Just another couple rows I bet." 

His estimate turns out to be correct; they pass by three more rows of trees when he catches sight of the sign he's looking for just ahead, and he points it out as they approach. 

But when they turn into the row, Kogami finally has an answer to the question that had been lurking at the back of his mind since the moment the vouchers were shoved in his hand. And when he looks down at her, the perceptive look on her face says Akane is thinking the same thing he is. 

"I guess this is why we got in for free," she mutters. 

Gazing further down the row, it's evident that plenty of others before them had been through and left very little behind for them to pick. Aside from the very tops of trees and the discarded leftovers in the grass, bruised and crushed into a messy paste underfoot, the area is nearly completely empty of apples. 

“These must be popular around this time of year," she says. Kogami nods.

“Seems like it.”

Akane then takes the lead and, pulling him along, walks further down the row with sparse hope of finding at least one tree bearing some apples within reach on the lower branches, but the longer the venture, the more her hope dwindles with nothing in sight. All of the lower branches are cleaned out. Kogami, being the taller one with longer limbs, tries to reach the upper branches with fruitless efforts; standing on his toes doesn't work, and he has to jump a few times before he can get a grip on a branch, which snaps out of his fingers once he lands on his feet. 

"Maybe we should try another section?" Akane suggests. 

"We could, but I have a feeling most of them look like this," he says. Then he looks down at her, back up to the tree, and back down to her. His eyes narrow in thought, lighting up with an idea. 

“What?” she asks, noticing his stare. 

“Are you scared of heights?” he asks. She looks up at him, puzzled, trying to figure out the relevancy of his question. Then it clicks. 

“You want to lift me?” she asks.

His silence and quizzical look serve as his answer, waiting for permission to act. She nods, and before she can question his methods Kogami is already lowering himself to a squat beside her. Following a quick instruction she’s seated comfortably on his shoulders. Until he stands up, that is, and then suddenly her entire body stiffens with fright. One hand sits awkwardly on the top of his head, fingers stiff with tension as they clench painfully to the roots of his hair. And beneath his grip, her thighs tremble just slightly, but enough so that it’s noticeable.

“All good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Akane mumbles. “It’s just…you’re a lot taller than I expected.” Kogami suppresses a laugh for her sake, but he's sure the look on her face is amusing.

“You won’t fall,” he promises, tightening his grip. As if he would let that happen. Definitely not after letting her get hurt in the woods. It takes a moment, but Akane eventually relaxes with his reassurance, her fingers melting against his scalp while her legs still. When she’s ready, he carries on.

“Alright, now let’s see if you can reach.” He steps closer to the tree until the leaves tickle his cheeks, and then her legs stiffen as she tests her reach.

Branches crackle above him as she moves. Seconds later she lets out a triumphant remark of satisfaction, and when he cranes his head as far that his neck will allow, he can see her hand clutched tightly to a branch dangling with a number of crisp, red apples waiting to be picked. A satisfied smile brightens her eyes; it's hard to believe she's the same woman that was so nervous just moments before. 

He’s seen her do this before--the day after he met Akane, when he woke from the paralyzer, when she apologized for something so inconsequential as shooting a latent criminal despite the fact that it was her duty to do so. She had been standing at his bedside bowing in shame, only to leave the room a completely different person, in which she was bursting with a newfound confidence and wearing her tear-stained cheeks proudly, all thanks to his words. He hardly understood her reaction at the time. But starting in that moment Kogami knew Akane wouldn't be someone to underestimate. She has always been capable of anything, graced with tireless endurance and exceptional determination at her core. Sometimes she just needs a little push.

While Kogami is lost in thought, Akane makes busy work of plucking apples. Her efforts are fast and efficient; within minutes all the fruit within her reach is stuffed in the sack, but it still has plenty of room for more. So Kogami steps back from the tree and makes his way over to the next until she can snag another branch. But this time, when she pulls it down to eye level, there’s something that catches her attention. She doesn't exactly scream, but a disgusted noise escapes her as she recoils away from the branch. Kogami tightens his hands around her thighs to keep her steady and steps a foot behind to regain his balance. 

"Sorry," she mutters once he's steadied them again. 

"No worries," he says. “What is it?”

“A giant bug of some kind. I think it's a spider.”

“Just pick around it.” 

"Well did you think I was going to shove it in the bag to take home and keep as a pet?" 

"I think that would be an interesting choice. A dog or cat is too conventional for you." She seems to ponder this comment while she continues to pull from the branches, and he can't help but wonder what she's thinking about. 

After a few more productive snaps from the branch she announces, “The sack is full,” peering down at him with elated eyes. 

“Alright,” he says, taking a step back from the tree. Then he lowers himself to his knees, low enough that her feet touch the ground and she can step off of him.

“What about the other bag?” she asks. He grunts as he stands back up to his full height, feeling significantly lighter without her weight on his shoulders. Not that he minded. 

“This is only one of two stops,” he explains. After a quick reference check of their location using the map, Kogami takes the sack from Akane and places it in the backpack, then holds out his hand so they can start walking. As the sun's sizzling rays beat down on them from above, he realizes wearing his coat today was unnecessary. 

“How far is the next one?” she asks. A quick glance down reveals a slight limp in her step so he stops walking. 

“Needing that ride after all?” he asks, gesturing with a nod down to her ankle. 

Akane opens her mouth to answer, but something behind him--not anything particularly threatening based on her neutral expression--distracts her. But before he can turn around to see what it is she's looking at, Akane pulls him to the side back into the trees while the loud roar of an engine approaches, and once she's moved them a safe distance away they watch as a large tractor rounds the corner, pulling a wagon that carries a few passengers behind it, and when it stops a short distance away to let the passengers off, the two of them exchange a brief look before coming to a silent agreement. 

They approach the driver who greets them once they're within earshot, asking if they're in need of a ride. Kogami replies by asking if the wagon can take them to the section they're headed to next, and when he gets an affirmative nod in response, the driver steps aside to let them up the steps. The inside of the wagon is lined with large bales of hay for seating, whose loose pieces are strewn about the ground and snap beneath their steps as Akane leads them to a spot in the middle to sit. A cheap canopy dotted with holes and tears overhead struggles to protect them from the sun. 

Since they're the only orchard customers in the immediate area needing a lift, the driver decides to take them now instead of waiting for more passengers. He latches the stairs in place before making his way back to the tractor around the side of the wagon. As he passes them, he gives Kogami a word of warning about the uneven ground ahead along with something else he isn't able to translate, but he knows it has something to do with weight. 

"What did he say?" Akane asks. 

"That the ride might get a little rough," he answers. She shrugs. 

It's not until the tractor is started with the engine roaring to life, as it suddenly jerks forward en route, that Kogami realizes what the driver was warning them about. Since it's just the two of them riding, the wagon isn't weighed down as well as it should be, like it would if it were carrying multiple passengers, so it starts to forcefully rock up and down as they venture over the long stretch of uneven terrain. With his heavier weight he's fine for the most part but he can't say the same for Akane--almost immediately she's subjected to sudden, uncontrollable bouncing, so he throws an arm around her shoulders to keep her in place. Even with this inconvenience it's still much faster than walking. 

Twigs snapping from thin, outstretched branches as the wagon passes by them steals Akane’s attention. She twists around to investigate but finds the view to be blocked by his arm, which he's hesitant to lower until she settles for physically pushing it out of her way, silently grabbing his hand and pulling it down to rest on her waist instead. Curiously, she doesn't seem bothered by this--she seems perfectly at ease in fact, despite making such a fuss about it before. What's even more confusing is how she turns a quizzical stare towards him when she notices him studying her, as if she's totally unaware of her contradiction.

"Doesn't this bother you?" he decides to ask.

"Why would it?" And before he can elaborate, her mouth drops into a crestfallen frown as she adds, "Does it bother you?" 

"No," he says. "But it bothered you earlier."

"This is different," she explains. "This is welcome. Yanking me around like I'm your property is not." Then she turns her gaze away, back to the trees. 

Is that really how he made her feel? As if she were his property? 

"Your intentions make the difference," she clarifies further, interrupting the silence that followed. "I know you were trying to be protective, but I don't think you realized that you were also being overbearing." Then she pauses, suggesting there is more she'd like to say but is on the fence about whether or not she should, and he waits for her to decide before he thinks to say anything in response. A long moment passes before she speaks again, surprising him when she asks, "Have you ever held a woman before?" 

Almost immediately, Akane is forced to bite back a giggle that wants to escape at the sight of what's probably the closest expression to embarrassment he's ever felt. This isn't a topic he goes out of his way to avoid, but it's also not one he regularly chooses to think about. And besides that, his answer is complicated at best. 

But looking back at her all-knowing eyes, he realizes she wasn't asking out of personal curiosity. Rather, it was for his sake, for his introspection. And when she sees him connect the dots, Akane turns her gaze away once again, leaving him to his thoughts. 

This grace doesn't last very long. 

“Woah," she says without warning, interrupting his thoughts. "This place is huge, look." Kogami obliges, craning his head to glance over his shoulder, and finds her observation to be an understatement. 

It doesn't seem quite so massive when looking at a not-to-scale map or when walking past the entrances of various sections, because it's impossible to see exactly how far each row of trees stretches into the distance without a bird's eye perspective, but seeing it for himself now is a bit unnerving. The trees cover so much land in long, lengthy rows, so long that it's all but impossible to pinpoint where in the distance they end. Part of him is fascinated, but it's overpowered by the part of him that doesn't trust large spaces where anybody could be hiding. 

Akane notices his body stiffen beside her as he overlooks the orchard. “Are you going to tell me what’s making you nervous?” she asks. 

Maybe it's due to irritation with himself, but Kogami can't help but let out a curt laugh when he hears this. His intention isn’t to be mean of course, but it's rather hypocritical for her to ask him that considering she's been refusing to be honest about her own uneasiness. But his mind changes the second she flinches at the unintentionally harsh demeanor of his words when he points this out.

That wasn't fair of him, and he knows it. A block of ice forms in his stomach as he searches for the right words to apologize with. But before he can get any of the words out, she cuts him off. 

“No, I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I shouldn't have asked. I just don’t like being kept in the dark. You acting so nervous makes me feel like I should be too.”

This is what he was worried about. Though she _should_ be nervous, all things considered, Akane doesn't know that, and the last thing he wants to do is aggravate whatever is bothering her. But this can of worms has been opened and he knows it isn’t fair to keep her in the dark if it piles onto whatever worries she already has, even if she won’t tell him what they are. It's time for him to be honest. 

"You're a target," he explains. Her eyes suddenly widening to the size of saucers reminds him to be more mindful of his word choice. He's about to explain further but her impatience gets the best of her. 

“A target for what?” she asks. 

“What happened to you yesterday wasn't an isolated incident." She stares back at him sort of blankly, as though she sort of understands his implication but something about it isn't quite clicking.

"What do you mean?" she asks. 

"You weren't the first person to experience that sort of harassment, nor will you be the last. The fact that you're attractive and a foreigner puts you at higher risk since you don't exactly blend into the crowd." He hates to put it so bluntly, but it's better than not being honest at all. 

"But you're foreign too. Even if you're a man, doesn't that also make you a target? At least to some degree?" There is some truth to that, he has to admit. He's faced his fair share of discrimination around here, but it's nothing compared to what he's heard about happening to women, nor is racism why he brought up the fact that she's foreign--at least not the type of racism she's thinking of. 

"Why do you think I avoid crowds?" he asks, more for a rhetoric than anything else. Then he sighs, and continues. "Don't ask me to go into details, but some vile things happen to women around here. Many of them go missing. And nobody bothers looking for foreigners. I know you can protect yourself and I know I can protect you, but it's something I'd rather you never have to experience."

"Why didn't you tell me any of this before?" 

This is where she finally stumps him. No matter how hard he attempts to rationalize it to himself as a form of protection, Kogami knows there was nothing really stopping him from telling her, and he knows very well that he should have. If he had been straightforward from the beginning, before he brought her to the market, Akane wouldn't have been so confused and upset about the way he was treating her, they could have found their compromise sooner, and she could have been better prepared for the harassment she was subjected to because of him. There isn't a single good reason for why he didn't tell her.

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

"I mean, I know I haven't been completely honest either--" 

"--It's not the same thing," he says, cutting her off. "Threats to your safety are things you have a right to know, but what's your business is only your business, not mine."

She's silent for a minute, looking down at her knees. "Thank you," she says finally. For what exactly she's thanking him, he isn't sure, but he gives her waist a small, reassuring squeeze anyway. 

Once they fall into silence, as if on cue, the tractor driver tosses a look over his shoulder at them, announcing their arrival. After another minute or so the wagon's speed begins to slow, until it comes to a final stop, and the engine is cut. Then the driver dismounts from the tractor and makes his way around to the back, where Kogami and Akane stand waiting hand in hand for him to unlatch the gate and let them off. Kogami thanks him as they step down and Akane follows closely behind him, politely repeating his sentiments to the driver.

It doesn't take very long to locate the section they're looking for. The apples here are unique, a bright and vibrant green that dot the trees like limes. While there appear to be more in number here than in the last area, they still can’t reach any without Akane going on his shoulders. To her credit, she handles the transition up much better this time around and quickly gets to work, though judging by the way she seems to take her time as she plucks apples from the branches, as opposed to exuberant efficiency like before, Kogami wonders if something is on her mind. 

He's not sure what compels him to ask, but the words come out of his mouth before he can stop them. "What are you thinking about?" he asks. 

"You're not very good with women, are you?" she asks. It's the last thing he expected to hear, to say the least, and the tone she uses suggests that he doesn't need to reply for her to know his answer. Kogami decides to respond anyway. 

"What gave it away?" he asks, following a chuckle. 

"You don't seem like the type to think about what women like. Or men, of course. I shouldn't make assumptions."

He can't deny that she's right. He doesn't usually think about things like that, seeing as how he's never had a reason to. 

"What do you like?" He isn't sure why he asks her this, though he suspects it's another symptom of that curious, profound effect she has on him. 

She takes a minute to answer, and when she does her tone is thoughtful and confident. "I like surprises," she says decidedly. 

Kogami finds he rather likes her answer. It's simple yet open-ended, and it's something he can work with. It's a very ' _Akane_ ' thing to say, and it's nice to see her acting more like herself. Whatever it was bothering her earlier, it seems to be gone for now. 

\--------

Before they leave the orchard, Akane wants to investigate the gift shop, though Kogami suspects it's really the bakery hidden inside that she secretly has her sight set on. He doesn't mind, seeing as how there's still some extra space to be filled above the sacks stuffed in the backpack and she won't let him sneak out extra apples because it's 'considered stealing.' (And when he brings up the fact that he's considered a criminal, she ignores his quip and pulls him along by the hand, muttering some incoherent crap about committing crimes when she's _not_ around.) 

The trip into the shop is rather quick. It's smaller in size than what appears on the outside, it's somewhat disappointing in what it has to offer, and it reeks with a nauseating, suffocating stench of sugar. There's a limited supply of various homemade jams, butters, sauces, pre-packaged pastries, and whimsical figurines that appear to be hand-carved, but amongst these items Kogami manages to find the few ingredients he needs. Akane picks out a box of pastries for breakfast tomorrow, and pays for their items quickly in a hurry to get back outside to the fresh air, and then they head back to the bike. 

The day is still early when they return to the cabin. The sun sits high in the sky, only just beginning its descent. However in spite of that, and in spite of the buzz from that morning's cup of coffee, Akane finds herself nodding off on the sofa when she props up her throbbing ankle to rest. 

It's not until a couple hours have passed that the sweet aroma of cooking apples eventually coaxes her awake. She's surprised to find the room around her a dim orange with the onset of evening--how long had she been asleep? 

Akane expects to find Kogami in the kitchen when she returns her melted ice pack to the freezer, but to her surprise he isn't there. Her only company is a large pot on the stove filled with chopped apples bobbing in bubbling water, joined by all the items she'd bought for him in the gift shop, as well as dinner leftovers he saved for her. The sight of food draws a loud growl from her stomach, which she hasn't fed since early that morning, so Akane spends a few minutes dishing herself a meal before doing anything else. 

It's while she sits alone at the table eating that the strange cold sensation makes another appearance. The air behind her starts to cool as a ticklish sensation forms at the base of her neck, like an icy set of nimble fingers crawling toward her skull. Instinctively Akane reaches behind her neck to scratch the skin, hoping to alleviate the sensation, but it doesn't help in the slightest. What does do the trick, however, is the relieving sound of the door sliding open, as well as the tall shape of Kogami's figure stomping out the loose dirt from his boots before stepping inside, bringing with him the earthy scents of soil and smoke. 

"Calling it in early?" she asks, glancing at the overcast sky through the glass. There is still some light since the sun hasn't set yet, meaning Kogami would still be hard at work outside according to his pattern from the last few evenings. Though, with that awful chilling sensation disappearing upon his entrance, Akane isn't complaining about having his company. 

"It's about to rain," Kogami says. He notices the empty plate in front of her. "How was it?"

"It was delicious," she says, watching from her seat as he yanks off his boots. "Thank you. I didn't even realize how hungry I was until I saw it."

He offers a satisfied half-smile as a show of propriety before he disappears momentarily to drop his shoes by the front door.

Knowing he's still within earshot, Akane asks, "How is your garden coming along?" 

"Getting there," he answers, followed by a _thunk!_ as his boots fall to the floor. 

"Are you wanting any help with it?" 

His voice grows louder as he returns to the table. "That's not necessary, but I won't say no if you want to." Then he reappears in front of her as he sits on the table, staring into the kitchen as he continues. "We're supposed to get a warm spell here in a few days. Even warmer than today." He turns his gaze pointedly towards her with his final word, hiding in his eyes the question he wants to voice without causing distress by asking it aloud. 

Will she still be here a few days from now? 

It's an honest and valid question, considering the circumstances, but she wishes he wouldn't look at her like that. His face is neutral, without preference one way or the other for her answer. However, unbeknownst to him, his hopeful eyes betray the facade. She remembers how they looked a few days ago, hardened with distrust and loneliness. They looked the same as they looked all those years ago with cold, drizzling rain drumming the canopy of a tarp over their heads; his eyes were completely empty, too void of anything other than hunting his prey to bother greeting her when they met. Now, when she looks at him, Akane sees some semblance of the way her mother looks at her when they're saying goodbye at the end of one of her visits. 

As much as she'd like for her answer to be what he wants to hear, she honestly isn't sure what to say. Having had some foresight, Akane knew she'd need to give herself that flexibility before she came here, so she isn't technically bound by any time restraints to return home. But the time will come soon. She'd already made peace with her decision and it isn't one she can undo. 

But as it is, her feelings are beginning to complicate things, and Akane can't ignore that either. She has to leave eventually. But the longer she's here, the harder she knows it's going to be to say goodbye when she does. Sitting here now while she hesitates to tell him the truth, hesitates to shatter the hope in his eyes is all the proof she needs. There's an inviting pull to him that gets stronger every day, that weakens her in the knees even now as her gaze is locked in his--a pull that puzzles her, bubbling mysteriously just under the surface, that feels as though it's going to burst from her chest the moment she boards her plane back to Japan, and it will make her stop in her tracks and tell him to wait, and it will compel her to spin around and face him, and then… what? 

But even more than his strange allure, it's fear that makes her hesitate. For reasons she struggles to explain, Akane has always felt the safest when Kogami is around, even back when he was a latent criminal. She's realizing now that this feeling hasn't changed at all after all this time. If anything, it's intensified. For discernible reasons that she can't tell him, the thought of going home makes her increasingly anxious, but his presence alleviates that anxiety so effortlessly and effectively that it's starting to become addicting. The utter dread at what awaits her back home hasn't left its dreary corner of her mind all throughout the day, stalking her like prey with sharp eyes, waiting for her walls to crack under the pressure so it can sweep in and attack. And for Kogami's sake, that absolutely cannot happen. She can't let the walls fall. She knows very well what will happen if she does. 

The question Akane should really be asking herself at this point is how much should she be dragging this out? The pull in his eyes is telling her to wait, but what is she supposed to be waiting for? She came here with one goal in mind and it can't be fulfilled until she leaves, so should she be putting off the inevitable if it's only going to be more painfully difficult when the time comes? Not even just for her, but for Kogami too? Is that fair of her to do? 

Not having an answer for him, Akane stands with her plate in hand and escapes into the kitchen, letting his unasked question disintegrate into silence. 

"What are you making?" she asks once a wall sits between them, eyeing the pot on the stove as she passes it on her way to the sink. The aroma that wafts from it is strong and savory, and is surprisingly relaxing. 

He follows her into the kitchen but keeps the distance between them short as he stops at the door frame, which he leans against with arms crossed over his chest. 

"Cider." 

"Isn't there supposed to be fermentation involved?" she asks. The concoction doesn't smell anything remotely like the hard ciders she's familiar with. Kogami's low chuckle fills the kitchen, just barely audible over the running water. 

"This is a non-alcoholic cider," he explains. "It's a western recipe."

"It smells delicious," she says. "I can't wait to try it."

As if this is his cue, Kogami stands from his lean and drifts past her as he crosses the room, then pulls a pair of mugs from the cupboard and sets them on the counter. "How's your leg doing?" 

"It's feeling better," she says. "Resting definitely helped."

"You looked like you needed it," he says, kneeling to the floor to retrieve a few utensils from beneath the cupboard. When Akane gets a glance at his face, she notices the bruises beneath his eyes seem to sag. 

"You look in need of a nap, yourself," she says. He shrugs her off. 

"I don't sleep much these days."

"Why is that?" Akane asks. He doesn't seem to have an answer, evident by his quietness as he moves the utensils to the counter one by one. She studies him for a moment when he chooses to simply leave her question unanswered, sizing him up from the head down. His body language is more unguarded than usual, judging by the way his shoulders hang more loosely and how his lips aren't set in a scowl. What's more telling, however, is the exhaustion in his eyes. It hides something else, something mysterious behind it that eludes her search, and it makes Akane retreat her gaze to the window. What fairness is there in learning his secrets when she won't share hers?

Outside, the sky has darkened considerably as storm clouds have begun to roll in. A low rumble of thunder sounds overhead, followed by a light drizzle that taps on the window panes like a ticking clock, like a timer counting down the minutes to an impending deadline.

Once all the utensils he needs are retrieved, Kogami stands with a grunt, snapping Akane out of her trance. On the counter sits a strainer plus two empty pitchers, one of which he places in the sink. 

"Hold this," he instructs, holding out the strainer. "Might want to roll up your sleeves." 

Akane obliges, and he waits patiently while she shoves her sleeves up to her elbows and takes the strainer from him when she's ready. Then, with a gentle hand on her shoulder, he nudges her closer to the counter and moves behind her, where he hovers close enough that she can feel his breath above her, warming her crown. His other hand rests softly on her forearm, guiding her to position the strainer over the pitcher with needlessly careful precision. It's then, signaled by a sudden fluttering sensation in her stomach, that Akane realizes exactly what he's doing--creating an excuse to touch her--so she fixes her gaze down into the sink to hide her rapidly-flushing skin from his view. A shiver travels down her entire body so noticeably that she's sure he takes note of it, given how closely he stands behind her--so close that she can feel where the shape of his belt buckle presses into the curve of her spine.

It's only for a second that he doesn't move from this spot, letting his fingertips dance over her skin, tickled by the raised hair on her arms as her nerves flutter excitedly. But that mere second passes much too quickly for her liking, and then he's stepping away towards the stove. Now liberated from his entrapment, Akane lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, fleeting disappointment drowned out by the deafening echoes of a throbbing heart racing in her ears. 

A knob is turned to the side on the stove, switching off the heat, and then Kogami turns back to face her with the pot held tightly in his hands. She holds the strainer in place while he pours the contents in a small, controlled stream, where the strainer catches and sifts out mushy chunks of apples and soggy cinnamon sticks while the liquid passes through and collects in the pitcher. Hot steam rises around them, but Akane's grip is steadfast, trusting with certainty that he won't accidentally spill any on her hand. When the pot is empty, he returns it to the stove top and takes the strainer to dump the contents in the garbage, then the process is repeated by pouring what's collected in the pitcher into the second through the strainer, to catch any chunky bits that escaped the first time. And finally, once that's done, he fills both mugs and hands one to her with fervent eagerness in his eyes. 

Akane is hesitant to try it at first. It steams from the mug with a spicy yet sweet aroma, and the bronze color looks unlike anything she's ever tried before. But one nod of encouragement from Kogami is all she needs. The heated ceramic warms her lips as she lifts it to her mouth, and though it's a bit too hot for her tolerance, the cider is delicious when she sips on it. 

His eyes ask her how it tastes, and she smiles. 

"It's good," she says. 

"Just good? That's all I get?" 

Suddenly, when Akane opens her mouth to respond, a rather loud roar of thunder claps above them, nearly shaking the entire cabin and making her jump. Overhead, the sound of pouring rain grows louder, more intense, and the shrill whistling of the wind can be heard through the kitchen window. Kogami seems to mistake her skittish behavior for nerves aggravated by the sudden onslaught of the storm as his posture stiffens, like he's torn between his hot-headed impulsiveness and rigid self-restraint, like his hands itch to reach out in comfort but everything else tells him to behave otherwise. Instead, he holds his mug awkwardly in both hands, his fingertips drumming the ceramic restlessly. 

Akane wishes she could say something. She wishes she could correct his misconception and tell him what's really on her mind. Truthfully, she knows he's aware that it's something deeper bothering her and causing this jumpiness. But it's easier to let him pretend to rationalize it in simpler terms. 

Moments later, after the kitchen is lit with a blinding white flash, Kogami seems to have made up his mind. 

"Come here," he says, but approaches her instead as he says this. One hand takes a ginger hold of her shoulder and guides her out of the kitchen, into the dining room and to the sliding door, where they stop and stand in front of it, facing the glass. 

At first Akane is confused. Why are they just standing there? But when she looks up at him in question, his eyes are fixed on something beyond the door, and also at nothing in particular at the same time. It takes a moment of observation for her to figure out that he's simply watching the rain as it falls, and he wants her to try it too. So she does. 

It comes down in sheets, like rubber bullets pelting the deck and the grass beyond--it's unusually therapeutic. Above them, lightning streaks across a charcoal sky in brilliant, jagged edges, accompanied with another crack of thunder that vibrates beneath their feet. But this time, when she's standing so close to Kogami, it doesn't startle her. 

"It's hypnotic, isn't it?" he says after a few moments of rain-filled silence have passed. 

"It is," she agrees, "although isn't this technically dangerous? You know, standing so close to a window when there's lightning?" 

"Do you feel unsafe?" he asks. It's funny how she was just thinking about this earlier. Looking at their image in the glass she can see his eyes on her, but the warmth she feels isn't coming from his reflection. Before answering, she lets her head fall against his shoulder. Another flash of lightning illuminates the yard before them. 

"No," she says. 

He seems pleased by this answer, and settles into reticence as they watch the rain come down together for a while. 

Eventually, the storm calms enough for its thunder and lightning to subside, leaving only the deluge of rainfall to accompany their silence, but even that doesn't last forever. 

"You know," Kogami says, looking into his cup, "back before the global collapse, apple cider was sort of a seasonal tradition in western culture."

"That's interesting," she says, sipping on the cider in question. "I thought most things from that culture were borrowed." Kogami chuckles at the casual disapproval in her comment. 

"That's mostly true," he agrees. "Most people would buy cider in stores. Going out and picking your own apples to make homemade cider is more old-fashioned."

"Old-fashioned, huh?" she says with a laugh.  
"I'm assuming you had a good time, then?" 

As he looks down at his drink, it feels more like he's looking down at her.

"It wasn't so bad," he says. Then he looks away, back to the chaos outside. "How about you?"

"I've been on worse dates."

"The next one will be better." 

Upon hearing these words, her body seems to be one step ahead of her mind, because her hands react by closing tightly around her mug and her neck tickles with a growing heat beneath her skin before she completely disgusts what he means. A long minute passes, filled by his endless patience as Akane scours her brain for an appropriate response, while his eyes study her with apparent amusement. Her knee-jerk reaction is to tell him it's not necessary, that he doesn't need to offer anything further than their 'date' today, if it could even be called that. They had only gone to the orchard by her suggestion to ease his anger, as a mental health practice that he was sorely in need of, seeing as how their entry was free and wouldn't cost them anything. She hadn't expected anything beyond that. But he knows that, she's sure of it. Telling him all of this would be completely pointless. His answer would be something along the lines of 'I want to,' which is confirmed by the half-smirk on his lips when she dares to sneak a glance at his reflection, as if he knew this suggestion would come as a surprise to her and he's satisfied seeing the results play out as expected. 

Even if she won't be here for much longer, and even if nothing comes of it, Kogami still wants to. He knows she has no other reasons to refuse, and he knows Akane doesn't want to refuse either. So she supposes there's no harm in it. 

"What would that entail?" Akane asks the glass. Her voice comes out fragmented from unsteady breaths, revealing to him her uncertainty. Or perhaps she's simply feeling shy. 

Thankfully Kogami spares her comments about rosy colors or shaky breaths. Before he answers he steps away from the door, taking with him the warmth of his body and leaving behind a space of cool air that threatens to slither around her neck, which immediately evaporates once she watches his reflection in the glass. Following his movements, Akane watches Kogami place his now-empty mug on the table, and when he turns around to sit on its surface he meets her eyes in the glass, though she pays them no attention while she waits for his answer. His image appears like a polished gloss over dark trees dancing violently in the windy downpour. It's strange to see such gloomy weather after spending the early part of their outside in the sunshine, where up on his shoulders the wind was pleasantly warm, and holding his hand as they strolled about the orchard felt nothing out of the ordinary. 

It could be ordinary for them. If things were different, not so complicated, they could be different. Seeing his reflection behind hers, appearing together as one image, her chest begins to ache deep down in hardened muscles she cemented over the years, beginning that night when she cried over his letter. Akane yearns for it far more than she cares to admit.

And when she finally uncovers the courage to meet his eyes, she finds they're just as melancholy as hers. 

"There's another old-fashioned tradition called dinner and a movie," he says quietly, his voice just barely audible over the rainfall. "Dinner's already covered, so that just leaves the movie."

Akane cracks a modest grin at his reflection. That doesn't sound too complicated. It's painfully simple--which for them is sometimes too much to ask for, so she will take whatever scraps of simplicity she can get. 

Feeling braver with the distance between them, Akane turns around and faces him head on. At first she peers at the floor, eyeing the number steps between their feet--three, maybe four. It's a safe distance, close enough to smell the bizarre mixture of bittersweet apples and dingy smoke on his breath, but far enough away to keep her ribs from catching fire. 

"You don't seem like the type to sit around and watch films as a pastime," she says. 

"Does that mean I can't enjoy one from time to time?" The playful half-smile on his face attempts to feign a look of hurt as though she's insulted him, yet he enjoys it. It draws her forward in a step she doesn't remember taking, followed by another as she speaks. 

"It's more like your hobbies include destroying your lungs, intimidating everyone around you, and re-reading the same classic literature when you're not doing the other two things. Watching movies feels a bit out of place in all of that, don't you think?" 

By the time she's finished with her banter, Akane is standing directly in front of him now, where his eyes sit much closer to her level thanks to the height of the table where he sits. Another clap of thunder cracks above them, though it isn't nearly as loud as her heart beating in her ears, and the lightning that accompanies it illuminates his face, briefly highlighting its curves and sharp edges and erasing the shadows under his eyes. His knees are spread apart in his comfortable, casual posture, with noticeably enough space for her to squeeze in between if she wanted to stand even closer to him. 

"Is this a needlessly elaborate means of turning me down?" Kogami asks, his amused smirk still set in place. 

"If it was, you'd be enjoying it, wouldn't you?" This comment seems to surprise him, drawing out a curiosity in his eyes that possesses a strangely challenging nature to it, threatening to ignite that ache in her chest. So Akane looks away, casting her eyes down, and when she does she notices his hands are gripping the edges of the table with pale knuckles, as if he's desperately attempting to keep them to himself. 

Perhaps she's being too cruel to him, toying with him like this, standing just within his reach and pushing the boundary between them right up against his toes, knowing with trusting certainty that he won't cross it without permission. Stealing a touch in the kitchen and holding her hand is the furthest Kogami has tested his limits, but even those he wouldn't do until Akane did them first. His restraint is immaculate. He makes it look so easy. 

Akane can tell by the hungry look in his eyes, hardened with careful control, that he's keenly aware of what she's doing to him and isn't showing any signs of complaint. Does he enjoy this cruelty? Or is it that he likes her sudden streak of boldness? Either way, no matter which one it is, she's beginning to feel guilty. Is it fair of her to push this line if she's not sure she should cross over it? Is it fair of her to hold him back from what he wants? Is it fair to deprive herself of what _she_ wants? 

"Do I intimidate you?" he asks suddenly. 

"What?" she asks. Confused by the question, her brow furrows. 

"Apparently one of my hobbies is intimidating people," he explains, still amused by the comment as indicated by his playful tone. "Do I intimidate _you_?" 

"No," she says. "Well, not like _that_." She then realizes the corner she's just forced herself into when his brow arches inquisitively, inviting her to elaborate, and she feels a shudder radiate down her spine as she hurriedly searches for an explanation. The courage that pushed her to stand so close to him is quickly dwindling, but she still manages to find the words she's looking for. "What I mean is your tough-guy demeanor scares most people off, but it doesn't scare me." 

Kogami appears strangely relieved upon hearing her words--but they only offer half of an explanation, and his curiosity for the other half is apparent. If he doesn't scare her, then what other sort of intimidating effect was she alluding to? 

Looking for an escape, Akane suddenly shoves her mug out to him. "I'd like a refill before we watch anything," she says. Though the curiosity is still present, Kogami's face softens as he takes her cup with both hands; one settles firmly over hers and traps it against the ceramic, and he holds her gaze with a warm intensity while his other hand takes its sweet time slinking beneath to support it from the bottom, before he finally frees her grip. 

"Yes ma'am," he says, and she steps back as he stands. Kogami grabs his own mug from the table and heads into the kitchen, leaving Akane to bask in the embarrassing heat covering her entire face while she watches his back retreat around the corner. 

But the moment he's out of her sight, the haunting chill suddenly returns. Her spine stiffens with the unsettling feeling of being watched, as though someone is standing behind her and staring at her through the glass. Logically, Akane knows nobody is there; even in the dark, Kogami would have seen them approach. But despite that, she doesn't dare turn around. She follows him into the kitchen instead, taking comfort in watching him pour their drinks like it's nothing out of the ordinary, and enjoying his weight beside her on the sofa when they finally sit down after bickering over limited movie options. It's simple, normal, and it both relaxes her nerves yet also aggravates the ache in her chest, like a fire that can't be extinguished no matter how long she attempts to suffocate it. Maybe it's time to stop trying. 

Whatever good mood she found herself in at the start of the movie is immediately undone within the first few minutes. The choice they settled on, a supposed horror classic titled _The Ring_ that Akane recalls being an adamant recommendation from classic film-enthusiast Kagari, tells the story of a videotape haunted by the ghost of a girl murdered by her mother, that curses whoever views the tape to a significantly shortened life span. Throughout the film Akane finds herself increasingly uncomfortable as the protagonist searches desperately for a solution to avoid dying, especially when the curse falls upon and threatens her son. 

Akane's thoughts begin to drift away from the film as she realizes how unfair it is to punish someone with death because of the suffering of someone else entirely, how the prospect of only having a week left to live is rather terrifying the more she thinks about it, and how she, herself, is running out of time. These thoughts are only worsened by the final scene of the film, as the protagonist has found a solution to the curse, and shifts it from her son to the viewer, or her. Even though it's a work of fiction, Akane finds it deeply unsettling. 

Kogami on the other hand appears unbothered and at ease after the movie is over. He offers a quick opinion that she doesn't hear, as she's too wrapped up in her thoughts, and once he notices her apparent distress he then faces her, tentatively placing a hand on her knee to grab her attention. 

"You okay?" he asks once she snaps out of it. 

"Yeah," she lies. "I'm fine." 

Not at all convinced, Kogami asks, "You sure the movie didn't scare you too much?" Akane shakes her head, hoping to persuade him, though she can tell it isn't very effective. He continues to study her in the same manner he used that morning, attempting to get a glimpse inside the walls she refuses to let crumble despite the somber thoughts weighing heavily in her mind. 

It makes her chest ache terribly. She's beyond tempted to just confess everything here and now, but...she can't. She can't do that to him. She made her decision, and she has to live with it. 

"I'm just tired, is all," she lies. His slate eyes are incisive and all-knowing; he sees right through her dishonesty but accepts it anyway. It's an unspoken agreement, one of those lies that they're both aware of and tolerate for the convenience. 

"Alright," he says. "I can take a hint." The eerie chill returns at the base of her spine the moment his weight beside her disappears when he stands. She catches a glimpse of his face as he collects their empty cups from the table, taking note of how much darker the undersides of his eyes have grown in the last two hours. 

"Some rest will do you good," she says to his back as he retreats into the kitchen. Even if he doesn't sleep much anymore, she hopes he will at least try. 

The light flips on in the kitchen then, casting his lengthy shadow across on the floor. It reminds her of when she sat upon his shoulders earlier that day, when she got to feel as tall as him--taller even--reaching heights she never could before with the help of a steady foundation to keep her safe from falling. Now, curled up on the sofa in the dark, she feels quite small. 

Once he's finished in the kitchen and makes a final trip to the restroom on his way to bed, Kogami stops at the base of the stairs. 

"Tomorrow I'm going to the market to check in with…" His voice trails off, like he's not sure how to continue, like he wants to say one thing but can't find the right words. She suspects he's referring to the asshole that gave them the orchard vouchers, but he isn't sure whether to mention him in her presence. 

"Your friend?" she offers. 

"He's not my friend." Even though the room is dark, Akane can see the brooding anger in the folds of his brow. It's clear as day in his voice too. 

"I asked if he could get his hands on some equipment for me," he continues. "I should go see if he's got any updates. You're welcome to come with me but I understand if you'd rather stay here." 

The idea doesn't particularly excite her, but then again, neither does waiting alone. 

"I'll think about it," she says.

"Alright then," he says with a nod. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." 

Strangely, as the word comes out of her mouth, something about it doesn't feel right, like… like it's not enough? She can't explain it with words. But somehow, Kogami seems to feel it too, as he hesitates just a second longer before he turns and climbs the stairs, leaving her alone in the dark. As she watches his feet ascend the steps, her heart begins to pound uncontrollably, almost deafening in her ears. 

"Wait," she calls out without meaning to. Kogami pauses, then backtracks a few steps down. 

"What is it?" he asks, unaware that she's asking herself the same thing because she doesn't even know why she called out to him. She racks her brain, trying to think above the pounding in her ears for something to say, something to ask that won't seem pointless. 

"If you were to go by yourself tomorrow, how long would you be gone?" she asks. With the conversation taking a different turn, Kogami moves down another two steps. 

"Depends. I was planning to work a job if I have the time." Then he notices the look of confusion on her face and quickly adds, "I'm not going to keep using your money."

"I don't mind, really," she says. His expression hardens, but hers is harder. "I mean it," she insists. "I'm not going to use it. I _haven't_ used it. I've never known how to spend it all."

He leans on the banister with crossed arms. "Did you want to sleep, or brag about your riches?" 

"I'm not bragging, I'm just--" 

"I'm only teasing," he interrupts. "Thank you." 

"I'll go with you tomorrow," she decides. "But I don't want to see that guy." 

"You won't," he promises.

"Okay."

"Are you sure you want to?" 

"Yes."

"Alright." With nothing else to say and with the goodnights already out of the way, Kogami continues up the stairs, leaving her alone to sleep. But still, something isn't quite right. There's something missing, something inside her that feels incomplete. But it doesn't matter, because he's all the way up the stairs and moving into his bedroom before she can figure out what the feeling is or how to explain it. 

Maybe she's just in need of more sleep. It has been a rather long, busy day, and she's spent a substantial amount of it up in her head. The nap had helped, but it wasn't nearly long enough to unwind everything coiling her nerves. There had been a lot of walking, a lot of anxiety to fend off, a lot of emotions flurrying about in her chest, a lot of thoughts chasing circles through her head, a lot of confusion and analyzing and racing hearts, and all of _that_ on top of waking up early in the morning with a stomach ache after getting considerably little sleep would exhaust anyone. 

That's what it is. She's exhausted. Exhausted from her workload, exhausted from keeping her team working together without killing each other, exhausted from keeping perhaps the biggest secret in the history of the world to herself, exhausted from working closely with the system that constantly scrutinizes her every action. Maybe that's why she got on the plane in the first place, to get away from everything. Maybe she really did need a vacation, after all. 

But it's more than that. Somewhere in her gut, Akane knows there's more. It's been hiding under the hairs on her neck, crawling up her spine, constricting the blanket tighter around her cavity, eating away at a hole in her chest. Exhaustion. Defeat. Fear. A need to escape. 

Her body begins to move of its own accord, somewhere outside of her control. Before she realizes what she's doing Akane sits up all of a sudden, snatching her terminal from the table where she'd left it, and in the next moment her travel itinerary is pulled up on the screen. The metal bracelet shakes in her jittery hands but she still manages to read the information shown:

> Round trip ticket; JAL JL 139; Departing from HND Tokyo, Japan; 2119 October 12; 05:00 AM; Arriving in BIO Bilbao, Spain; 2119 October 12; 12:00 PM. Return Flight TBD. 

After a moment of searching, Akane finds that there's an option to edit her itinerary. She taps the button with her breath trapped in her throat. Then she finds the option to cancel her return flight. Her thumb trembles as it hovers over the button.

All of a sudden, she chucks the terminal as hard as she can to the floor on the other side of the room, her chest heaving with rapid breaths as she listens to the sound of it skidding across the wood and smacking the glass with a loud clatter that makes her flinch. Then she realizes she can't breathe. 

Akane rips the blanket off and quickly stands to her feet. With a quivering hand thrown against her chest, she forces her lungs to draw in a slow breath. Calm down, she thinks to herself. Calm down. 

It isn't very effective, so she decides she shouldn't be alone right now. She isn't thinking rationally. And before she can change her mind, Akane gathers her pillow and blanket in her hands and clutches them to her chest as she climbs the stairs with rickety knees, wills her breathing to a calmer pace before she knocks on his door, shoves the fear down into a lump in her throat that she attempts to swallow while she waits for Kogami to answer. 

The light is on in his room, evident by the dull glow from under the door, but Kogami doesn't come to the door. Thinking maybe he didn't hear the first time, Akane knocks again, then she waits a moment. Still, nothing. Followed by more nothing.

Very slowly, Akane turns on her heel, feeling small and dejected as she makes her way back to the stairs. 

Is he ignoring her? No, that's not like him…or is it? No. Maybe he was reading and fell asleep. Maybe he wasn't reading, and he simply prefers to sleep with the light on. Maybe he's listening to music using headphones and didn't hear her knocking. But that can't be likely--she's never heard him mention anything regarding music before. Does he even _like_ music? 

So maybe he _is_ ignoring her. Maybe he just needs space. Is she bothering him too much? Is she overstaying her welcome? Should she schedule a flight back home tomorrow? Should she--

"Akane?" Kogami's voice asks from behind her once she's several steps down the stairs. Surprised, she turns to find dull, yellow light pouring around his figure as he stands in front of the open door. Immediately the fleeting panic in her chest begins to unwind from its ever-tightening knot. 

She forgets to reply, which prompts him to ask "Are you alright?" with a brow that furrows in concern when he meets her panicked eyes. Even in the dark, he can tell. Then his gaze drops to the bedding clutched in her hands, and though he connects the dots right away, he still waits for her to answer. 

She has no idea what to say. Yes? No? Dodge the question with another question? 

"Um," she mutters, staring at the wooden boards of the staircase, at the dark spaces between her toes. Her throat feels parched. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" 

The innuendo is not lost on either of them, but Akane doesn't bother correcting herself while Kogami is clearly no longer in the playful mood he was in earlier. He agrees without a word, taking a step away from the door to give her space, and he gestures into the room with a pointed nod of his head. Akane bites her lip to keep immediate tears of relief from spilling as she climbs the stairs and shuffles past him into his room. When the door closes behind them, the tightness in her chest finally dissolves, and she can breathe again. 

Kogami lets her take the bed, collecting the pillow and blanket from her and dropping them on the floor for himself.

This is the first time she's seen his room, she realizes as she sits--at least with the light on, anyway. Last night the room was dark, and Kogami was snoring so loudly that it muffled the sound of her creaky footsteps despite her efforts to be quiet when she left him the glass of water, and then Akane had scurried from the room as quickly as she entered. She didn't notice the dresser in the corner covered in stacks of notebooks and old newspapers, or the set of dark blue hand weights on the floor, topped with a towel left in a half-formed heap, as though it lazily missed the clothing hamper beside it by a narrow margin. As she inspects the room now, she also notices on the other side of the room the set of double doors she'd seen on the front of the cabin that leads out to the balcony. 

Just like her first day here, Akane finds herself swimming with a whole new array of questions for Kogami she hadn't thought to ask before, like how he cleans his laundry, how he manages to exercise and stay fit while downgrading to one set of tiny weights, and why one of the double doors is ajar, letting the warm air in the room escape as a cold, smokey gust sweeps in and pushes the door open further. 

There isn't a need for her to voice the last question, because he also notices the door open, and the curse Kogami mutters under his breath as he crosses the room to close it indicates he thought he closed 'the damn thing' all the way, but apparently he hadn't. 

That's when she puts the pieces together. Kogami wasn't ignoring her knocking; he was outside smoking. He must have only just returned to the room in time to hear her footsteps trudging down the stairs. 

Rationality is far more comfortable than blind panic. 

"The movie scared you after all, huh?" Kogami asks, after shoving the door closed and whacking it with a good kick at the bottom for good measure. 

"Yes," she lies--although technically, it's not completely a lie, but she knows that doesn't make it any more convincing. Still, he accepts it without any pestering. Even if it's only half true, that the movie is only partially to blame for her behavior, it still feels good to admit it out loud. It's like she's shedding the weight of one half of a coin, one less secret she has to hide. But the flip side of the coin still hangs in the air, hovering in the dark when Kogami shuts off the light, dangling over her face while she stares up at the ceiling beneath his covers. 

She really hates lying to him. 

Eventually, the rain picks back up, starting with a light drizzle that grows more intense as the minutes pass. Akane is certainly grateful for it, because the slow drone of drizzling rain directly above them lulls her body to relax, though it does nothing to calm her mind. At least Kogami's presence offers a safety net. Knowing he's there, her thoughts don't spiral out of control, nor does her body move of its own accord in desperate search of hasty impulses to perform that she will regret later. 

Perhaps this is the reason she came to Spain; not solely to say goodbye, but for clarity, for perspective. That's always been his forte. 

A memory comes to mind then, from years ago when she was last on the verge of a mental breakdown, when she had to hallucinate him, when she had to hear pretend words in order to snap out of her stupor, to remind herself that she _wasn't_ going crazy, because she knew that if Kogami was by her side working such a perplexing case, he would have believed her conviction when nobody else did, and that was all she needed. Along with that, Akane wonders if it was that she simply needed to hear his voice in order to be pulled back to her senses, because it was rather helpful just minutes ago on the stairs. 

"Kogami," Akane says into the dark. Her voice comes out just above a whisper, but loud enough to be heard over the rain. 

"Hm?" comes his reply. 

"If you knew you only had a week left to live, what would you do?" she asks. A long moment passes before he answers.

"I wouldn't do anything differently than what I am now." 

"Wouldn't you go back to see your mother?" She knows how important Tomoyo is to him. 

But, in the dark, he shakes his head, and she can hear the rustling of his bedding as he does. "I'd give her a call, at least." He doesn't need to explain his reasoning. If it came down to it, she knows Kogami would prefer to die as a free man forever roaming foreign lands rather than in an underground cell somewhere in Japan, which is the reality he would face if he returned. 

"What about your father?" 

"Wouldn't know how to contact him. Haven't spoken to that bastard in a long time."

"Why is that?" She feels awful asking for an explanation, but figures he won't answer if he truly doesn't want to. 

“Let's just day he wasn't thrilled that his only son, a prodigy student with a promising, high-profile career, disgraced the family name by becoming a latent criminal." He does his best to hide the sadness in his voice, but it isn't enough to fool her. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. Maybe she shouldn't have asked. 

“It is what it is. What happened was my own fault because I neglected my mental health. Actions have consequences and we live with them.”

"That's not entirely true."

"What isn't?" 

"It wasn't only your fault."

"Look, no matter how you want to spin it, I still chose what I chose. I accepted that a long time ago. You should too." She can hear the rustling of him turning over on his side. 

"Would you come say goodbye to me?" she asks suddenly. Akane knows it isn't fair to ask him this, especially not after he admitted he wouldn't even risk saying goodbye to his own mother, nor does she know why she feels compelled to ask. But she can't help it.

"I can't say. I've never been good at saying goodbye to your face." 

She knows he's thinking the same thing she is. The night he wrote her the letter, all the tears she shed; how much worse could it have been had he actually faced her before he left? How is it going to be when she does return home and he's forced to say goodbye to her face? When she has to say goodbye to him, knowing she will never see him again? 

Now she's thinking she should have followed his example, sent him a letter or left behind a message of some kind for him. By traveling all the way out to see him in person, she definitely landed herself in a mess.

"Why did I come here?" she thinks. She doesn't realize she actually said the words out loud until Kogami gives an answer. 

"Why are you asking me?"

It seems the vacation lie isn't worth keeping anymore. It's not like he believed it anyway.

"Because you always know the answer," she says. 

"I don't know everything. This isn't a question I can answer for you." 

"But you must have some idea, right?" 

Kogami sighs. "My guess is you're running away from something." 

"Would that be wrong of me?" 

"Depends on what you're running from. But I imagine it must be pretty bad if…" His voice tapers off into uncertainty. 

"If what?" she asks.

"Well I still don't know how you did it, but you stepped foot in a demolished nation for only a couple days and somehow convinced a dictator to step down from power in that time, essentially overnight. If there's something bad enough that even _you_ are running from it, then I don't blame you for being scared."

"Thanks. I feel tons better."

"What I'm saying is that I don't think you're wrong."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what it was." 

"Then why don't you tell me?" 

"I can't."

"Why not?" 

"Because like you said, our actions have consequences. I don't know if I'm ready for them." 

"Consequences mean a lot less when it's a matter of life or death."

"What if those consequences involve hurting people you care about?" 

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to give advice about it, but if you want my opinion I'd say one's own life matters more than anything else, so you should preserve it by any means necessary."

"But it's not just my life. It's… it's complicated."

"Even if the details are complicated, you have a choice; you can either face whatever it is you're running from, or you can keep running away from it. I don't have any place to judge which one you choose."

"It's not that simple. I already made my choice, I just...I don't know." 

"Are you having second thoughts?" 

"No. Well, I'm not sure. It's more that there's another decision I have to make that I wasn't prepared for, and I don't know what to do. Do I sacrifice something I want, or do I be honest with myself? I can't have both." 

"You do what you think is the right choice." 

"But how do I know which one is right?" 

"I can't tell you that." 

"Can you at least tell me what you would do?" 

"It depends on what I'm sacrificing, but I would choose whichever option I would most regret not choosing."

"Even if it hurts?" 

His head turns over, facing her direction as he asks, "Is it worth hurting for?" 

\--------

When she wakes in the morning, Akane is alone in the room, lying on her stomach and cradling a pillow in her arms. A sleepy crust clings to her eyelids as she pries them open, and she rubs them lazily with her thumbs after pushing herself up to her elbows. Then, when she can open her eyes all the way, she notices the floor is empty. 

Downstairs is empty as well, where she finds the spare bedding folded neatly on the sofa where she usually leaves it. Sitting on the dining table is her terminal. 

Since he isn't inside, she figures Kogami is working in the garden, but her fingers freeze on the door handle when she reaches for it. 

_Do whatever option you would most regret not doing_ , he said. It had taken a lot of lying awake through bleak hours of the night, but Akane had eventually come to her answer. However, as she's facing the reality of it now, she might not be so sure. 

Does she really want to do this? To cross over to the point of no return? To give into the inevitable pull between them? She may not agree with all of his choices, but Akane knows Kogami is someone she can absolutely trust with her life, in a way she can't do with anyone else. He's irrevocably important to her. And she knows she is important to him, too; his actions speak loudly enough on that front, and he wouldn't have allowed her to hide away from her problems under his shelter if this wasn't true. He may overstep his boundaries at times, but he protects her, sometimes at his own expense. And he's learning to respect her boundaries, learning to understand them. Anyone who would do that for her is worth the pain of giving the most honest goodbye she can give. 

Her goal had seemed so paramount when she first got on the plane, and now it’s beginning to dissipate in lieu of what waits for her back home, of the grave reality of her future. But she doesn't have to worry about that at the moment. For now, for the first time in a long time, allowing herself indulgence is more important. 

Instilled with trademark confidence, Akane slides the door open and steps outside, her bare feet cooling as they touch the surface of the deck. The sound of early birds chirping in the trees fills her ears, a pale yellow sky busy with sunrise stretching overhead. 

He doesn't notice her right away, not until she stands at the edge of the deck that overlooks the garden where he's working. When he does, it must be obvious that something important is on her mind because he says nothing as he stands, clapping the dirt from his gloves before he approaches.

Kogami stops just in front of her, less than an arm's length away, with his gloves yanked off and held in one hand. It's quiet except for the sing-song of birds and leaves brushing together in the wind, but even those begin to fade somewhere in the back of her mind as her focus turns elsewhere, her gaze fixed on his chest. He waits. 

Akane reaches for the chain wound around his neck, pulling up on it until two thin plates appear from beneath the collar of his shirt. They clink lightly when she dangles them by her fingertips, holding them at eye level and studying the engravings. 

With her heart racing in her ears, her fingers clasp around the plates to squeeze them in her palm. Then she pulls her fist down to her chest, her eyes fluttering closed as he rests his forehead on hers, and the tip of her nose brushes against his cheek. 

Her face is warmed by his hot breath huffing from parted lips that he keeps a careful distance away, until she tilts her chin up and searches for them with hers. The moment their lips meet, an ache burns in her chest so blisteringly hot that her heart feels as though it's going to burst from her chest, an ache to get closer, an ache for more. 

The threat of breathlessness forces her to pull away, and she relishes in the heat of his breath on her face. She whispers to him, "Yes," and then her breath is cut short as he kisses her back. Scorching butterflies erupt in her stomach when their lips meet again and dance all the way through her body to her fingertips, lighting her nerves like matches. His lips are hot and chapped and guide hers open with gentle, yet persuasive force as his hand finds her jaw and cradles it, holding her close to him. Her own fingers clutch his coat and pull harder on his tags when he nearly breaks the kiss, his neck craning as he steps up onto the deck. He urges her backwards with each step until her spine presses into the railing of the deck, trapping her in place, and the soil-stained gloves in his hold are slapped down, already forgotten, somewhere to the side. His movements are fast and exciting as his hands suddenly drop to her waist, forcing a gasp from her that yanks their lips apart when he lifts her off her feet. He sets her on the rail and, when she's comfortable, pulls her knees apart met with zero resistance, his hands skimming over the tops of her thighs before they rest on her hips. Her eyes open just enough to catch a glimpse of his, hot and hungry like hers, before she pulls his face back within her reach and meets his lips halfway.

The burning ache screams at her to let go, to lose herself in his lips, in the safety of his hands, in the musky taste of his breath; to hold him tight and keep him close, to relax into him; to toss her worries to the wind and allow the heat of his body to keep them at bay. Her fingers tremble as they travel down to his chest, grazing his neck, clutching a fistful of his shirt, all in an attempt to draw him closer, to hold their bodies together, to bask in his heat. But it's not enough. It's like she can't get close enough no matter how little space sits between them, like his hands on her hips can't grip her tightly enough, like his lips can't move hers with enough rough force to satisfy her ache. She wants more. She needs more. 

But sadly, she doesn't get her wish. Against her will, Kogami pulls away, resting his forehead against hers, forcing them to come up for air. His breath is hot on her face as his chest heaves, but it only draws her in for more, and he has to lean his head back temporarily and link his hands around her wrists in order to halt her efforts before he rests their heads together once more. 

"You're cold," he says with a chuckle, his breath warming her cheeks. 

"No I'm not," she manages through labored breaths.

"Then why are you shivering?" 

It isn't until he points it out that she does notice her body really is trembling, though she's positive that adrenaline is at least partially to blame. But she forgot to don a coat before coming outside, so he's probably right. 

"Oh," she says. "I guess I am cold." Kogami chuckles again as he removes his jacket before wrapping it around her shoulders, taking care to trap her grabby hands underneath as he holds it closed around her front. Then, to her delight, he leans in to kiss her again with a gentle softness this time, warming her all the way down to her core, and he pulls away much too soon for her liking. But his eyes are firm, unrelenting with reason, and she listens. 

"You should go back inside," he says softly. "Go warm up."

"Okay." 

But even inside, Akane still trembles with excitement, and when she touches her mouth in sheer bewilderment of what she's just done, she can still feel on them the tingling of his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, big thank you to the song Zombie by Day6 for singlehandedly saving this chapter. (Really, the whole album offered help, but this song in particular was on loop for 20 billion hours so it deserves a special mention.) 
> 
> You wouldn't believe how many drafts I went through and butchered to bits to get here, or how vastly different this chapter looks from the very first draft, or how many hours went into staring at this thing. Google docs is probably exhausted from all the revisions. I'm exhausted. But it's finally done! It isn't perfect by any means, but who cares? It's done!
> 
> Part of the problem was that I'm very excited to get to the next chapter, so just wrangling my daydreaming tendencies to focus on the current chapter at hand was about half the effort put into this one. I hope it paid off. I'm admittedly a bit uncertain about some particular content choices made throughout because this chapter's main theme is transitioning, which has always been one of my weakest points. 
> 
> There's also the issue of my brain wanting to constantly expand on and change things, and knowing when to let that happen and when to stick strictly to my outlines is a skill you're all witnessing me learning to harness, sorry to say. I can already feel my bad habit of "let's edit previous chapters before we continue" wanting to show itself, wanting to perfect what I perceive as imperfections, but I know I would keep the process going and going and never feel satisfied. So I'm meeting myself halfway by putting it off until I finish the whole thing, and then see if I'd like to rewrite anything or if I want to simply let things be imperfect. We'll see when that day comes. There's also a million and a half ideas that want to get written eventually, so maybe a rewrite will be shelved and I'll revisit the idea some time later. 
> 
> Forgive me for rambling. 
> 
> On an even more personal note, I hope you're all doing well. I know many of us are struggling during this time and words of encouragement and reassurance, especially ones from a stranger, can only go so far. They don't take away the crude realities of what can be life and death for some of us, or panic after losing a job, or wondering if continuing pursuing an education is worth the cost and labor, or if pushing through pre-existing mental health struggles will have any reward when this is over one day. 
> 
> I can't say anything to take any of that away from those who might be feeling the weight of uncertainty hanging around all of us, but I can certainly say you're not alone in any of it. That thought helps me at times. As does putting my effort into something I love, like writing. If you've read this far into my AN, thank you for giving me a reason to write this story other than for me. At the end of the day I do write only for myself, but the thought of knowing at least one person would be disappointed to not know how Gravity ends has kept my strength up and kept me going. All of your kind words and comments are appreciated so much more than my mediocre responses can express. 
> 
> Lastly, I'm sorry this chapter took so much time to be put out. I know I don't need to apologize but I am. I certainly hope it was worth the wait. I'm hoping with good graces that the next one won't take nearly as long. Once again I can't make any promises, but there's much less work that needs to be done and much more personal excitement for what comes next, if that gives you any hope. Thank you for your patience and encouragement. And as always, thank you for reading.


	4. Catalyst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// implications of sexual assault, depictions of kidnapping/abduction, graphic depictions of violence, drug mentions  
> cw// this chapter contains explicit sexual content!!

He could say he can't explain it but that would simply be untrue, because there is a perfectly good explanation for the way Kogami's cheeks hold an elated tension in them as he continues his work of ripping weeds from the ground. He doesn't smile, but he can feel the urge ever present on the edge of his lips, of which feel much colder without Akane's, steadfast and all over them. 

Such an urge is quite unfamiliar to him, one he hasn't felt in a very long time. But it's not unwelcome. 

Once the last weed in front of him is pulled, Kogami leans back on his feet as he tosses it into the bin beside him, then wipes the sweat from his forehead with his arm. Looking around the garden, he takes a moment to survey his progress. 

Since he'd started tackling the project about a week ago, he now only has a small patch of shrubbery to clear before he can begin work on the fencing he plans to build. Then, once that's finished, he will have to wait until spring to sow the soil and plant anything, but at least his work will be complete for the time being. 

Beforehand, the thought of finishing the project so soon might have made him unbearably restless, forcing him to search desperately for something else in the cabin that needs fixing or upgrading to preoccupy himself with. Replacing the windowsill and the broken peg on the balcony were easy projects to tackle, hence why he took them on first, but because they were so easy it didn't take him long to complete them. The time in between projects is always the most stressful, as his hands are constantly itching for something to handle. 

Unfortunately the comforting pages of a good book aren't always enough these days. 

But now, as he takes in the near-complete state of his garden, Kogami finds he's more eager than anything to finish it; he could be finished by tomorrow if he spends enough time working, and perhaps even sooner than that if Akane was genuine with her offer to help him. 

Rather than feeling like a desperate need to keep busy and pass the time, the prospect of finishing the garden feels more like an accomplishment for him to check off his to-do list. He suspects this change, which has slowly overcome him in the last few days, may not be coincidence. The many effects of her presence remain a mystery. 

He figures that now is as good a stopping point as any, and when he stands up, clapping dusty dirt from his gloves, the brisk wind that passes through is refreshing as it cools the damp skin of his forehead and the back of his neck. He's certainly worked up quite a sweat with all the yanking, digging, and shoveling since he gave up his coat to shelter Akane from the early morning's bitter chills, which disappeared as soon as the sun rose beyond the treetops, so he supposes it worked out just fine. But with how much soil is caked on his arms, Kogami figures a quick shower is now in order before they head out for the market. 

When he steps inside he finds his jacket abandoned, draped cozily over an empty chair with the book Akane has been reading left closed on the table. Judging by the placement of the bookmark, it seems she's almost finished, with only a handful of pages left. 

He steps out of his boots and drops them near the front door on his way upstairs to grab a clean shirt that isn't sodden with sweat and soil, and it isn't until he's turning the knob on the _closed_ bathroom door that Kogami realizes he hasn't seen Akane anywhere since he came inside, and he realizes exactly why that is. 

Even though he only ends up pushing the door open just a crack, he still earns a shriek of surprise in conjunction to the door being slammed closed in his face, followed by an angry string of scolds about carelessness and sensibility, which he listens to with penance as he leans on the wall outside of the bathroom, arms crossed over his chest until she finally pauses to let him apologize.

In his defense, he still isn't used to sharing his living space. There's also the fact that she didn't lock the door despite her claims of it being a personal habit, a learned behavior from an old case. 

Though when he thinks about it, Kogami supposes it's a reflection of Akane's trust in him that she doesn't feel a need to lock doors behind her knowing he's around--which is a good thing, because he would much prefer to suffer in shame and beg for forgiveness at the hands of her flustered berating if it means she doesn't have to lock herself in small spaces in order to feel safe, like she does in her own home. 

His mistake is quickly forgiven as she doesn't seem to want a huge deal made out of her nearly-invaded privacy. Almost as if she wasn't angry at all just a moment before, Akane sends him on an errand to retrieve a shirt from her suitcase since she forgot to grab one in her haste to get in the shower, but it's much quicker to just loan her his own since he's already holding it in his hand, and she's likely running low on clean clothes being five days into her vacation. On top of all that, rummaging through her belongings isn't his idea of respecting her privacy. 

At least, that's how he plans to rationalize it if she asks. But in reality, the idea of her wearing his things has very quickly become a secret pleasure of his, beginning when he loaned her a shirt to hide the police insignia on her vest, and re-discovered as he wrapped her up in his jacket to protect her from the cold. Why waste such a perfect opportunity presenting itself now? 

Akane doesn't notice at first as she takes the shirt from his hand, slipped inside through a crack in the door, but a moment later comes a confused, "This is yours," which draws a modest smirk on his face that he imagines would paint her skin if there wasn't a wall and a door between them. 

"Is that a problem?" he asks. 

For a brief moment, Kogami indulges in the fantasy of throwing in a suggestion that if she wants a clean shirt she can come out and get it herself, imagining what a salacious display he’d get of her torso if she did. But he knows that would be taking it way too far, so he keeps that thought to himself. 

"I guess not," she says, interrupting his thoughts with a tone so playful he wonders if maybe he could have gotten away with voicing his lewd daydream after all. 

The fantasy is short-lived anyway, immediately dispelled by the door opening and Akane emerging fully-dressed with her dirty clothes piled in her hands. He finds that the way his shirt loosely adorns her shoulders, hanging freely around her lithe frame is _easily_ superior to whatever prurient illusion his imagination could ever hope to create. 

Is this how pleasures turn into addictions, he wonders? 

Or will he be addicted to the way her gaze flashes to the sweat-drenched spots of his shirt that cling to and highlight his muscular build? Or the way her eyes practically pop from their sockets when he steps from the bathroom after his shower wearing nothing on his torso, holding the sweaty shirt in hand on his way to grab another from upstairs? 

Because he could get used to all of it, if given the chance.

Akane is in the kitchen when he returns, snacking on one of her breakfast pastries while she absorbs the final pages of her book, leaning comfortably against the counter with a plate of crumbs sitting beside her. Kogami notices the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and that she's tucked the shirt into her jeans to keep it from flowing so loosely that she drowns in it. 

Navy looks much nicer on her than it does on him, he realizes. 

Since she's so close to finishing, he lets her read in silence, busying himself by putting away cleaned dishes sitting out on the counter, and then washing the few left in the sink before drying and putting those away too. 

Once that's done, he decides to read along with her as she flips through the last couple pages, standing beside her quietly. She's kind enough to tilt the book enough so that he can see, and then she makes herself comfortable by leaning into his side and resting her head against his arm. Kogami is sure that if he were to lean forward and get a look at her face, he'd find a warm flush spreading over her cheeks to match the pink of her lips, which must be coated in a sugary taste from the pastry left half-eaten on the plate. 

Somehow, without so much as a glance up from the book, Akane notices where his stare has fallen.

"You can have the rest," she says quietly, her gaze fixed on the final page of her novel. But the two bites it takes him to eat the pastry don't taste nearly as delicious as what he truly craves, which he finds himself staring at as she reads. 

Even as she finally closes the book when she's finished, Kogami’s gaze remains fixed on her lips as he says, "Tell me your thoughts." Although admittedly, he's not as interested in hearing her answer that he normally would be. Instead his fascination lies more in the way her lips move as she speaks, recounting themes of death that he'd love to discuss another time when he isn't so preoccupied.

Then, Kogami notices a trace of sticky crumbs clinging to one corner of her mouth. Without thinking, his thumb brushes them away, cutting short the flow of her words as she looks up from the book to his face, revealing surprised, pink-tinted cheeks. 

After her courageous gesture to kiss him out of the blue, let alone her passionate ferocity that came with it, it's this small touch that makes her bashful? What a strange woman she is. 

What's even stranger is the moment of hesitation that falls over them both, as her stare flits back and forth between his lips and his eyes, and neither of them move. 

Where do they go from here? 

She had made her sentiments clear as day, but what about him? Sure, the way he took over before was a bold move on his part, but he wasn't the one who initiated. Teasing gestures and unspoken daydreams aren't the same thing as coming forward and being clear about feelings, which of course is not his forte, or anywhere in his comfort zone for that matter. But that shouldn't matter, because he has other strengths up his sleeve, like his courage, his willingness to leap into the unknown, his reckless impulsions to get results and make things happen. If he could give her the push she needed to come forward, he should be able to give one to himself. 

Looking down, Kogami can see a question in her eyes, that she's asking herself the same thing, but also that she's offering him the chance to make his move, waiting for him to reciprocate. 

Akane understands the importance of give and take, a lesson Kogami often finds himself stuck in the muddy waters of as he wobbles atop an unsteady balance of giving too much of himself to others who want more than what he can give, and not giving enough of himself when he's needed by others due to self-imposed inhibitions. But she's patient, and she waits, and with every warm drift of her breath over his thumb she lures him closer to her face, until her lashes tickle his cheeks as he closes his lips around her growing smile, and she hums happily against him like the short melody of a distantly-familiar song nestled somewhere in deep trenches of his memory. 

One minute he's holding her jaw tenderly while the other steals the book from her hands and tosses it back on the counter, then he's mimicking the way his mouth learns the curves of her lips with his fingers studying how her ribs smooth into the dip of her waist, how his hand fits there perfectly as he holds her softly, before he drifts further down to her hip. Feeble clutches of her fingers at his sides pull him closer, erasing any space between them, leaving her close enough that he can feel the soft pressure of her chest swelling for breath against his stomach. At her jaw his hand disappears, slipping behind her neck with a strong grip that keeps her trapped in his hold when they pause for air. Then, ever impatient, Akane pulls him back with a fistful of his shirt at his chest, melding their lips together as heat quickly rises between them. He abandons her hip with a daring move of cupping her backside in his palm, tasting her gasp, reveling in the heat of her skin as her hands skirt upward to his neck and hold him tightly, pulling him even closer. 

Kogami takes the hint, suddenly dropping his other hand to her ass and lifting her to his waist, her arms winding around his neck as her thighs squeeze his sides, where they stay when he steps toward the counter and sits her in place so his hands can roam freely, up her spine to her neck, and at the back of her waist where he can pin her center against his. Her hands are hot, as blazing as her desperate breath and her roaming tongue, like glowing, red irons pulled from a fire that brand his skin as a mark of her territory when she dares to slip one beneath his shirt. Her other hand clutches a painful, wet clump of his hair, the sort of pain that draws a low groan from the pits of his stomach and ignites a gnawing urge in his jaw, his teeth burning with a need to bite. He nearly chokes as he swallows it back--Kogami doesn't dare dive into those deep, murky waters without testing her first. He doesn't dare leave so much as a nibble on her lip in fear that, like the dirty hound he is, he won't be able to hold himself back once he gets a taste. 

But Akane seems adamant on challenging his control, sensing his restraint. Slowly, her hand tickles his abdomen as it dips south toward his belt, a single fingertip dragging along the leather as she circles around to his front, where he suddenly closes a firm hand around her wrist to stall her teasing. Perhaps she's even more stubborn than he, for her other hand is insistent, pointedly stroking his chest and his abs as she drops it to his belt as well, only to find both of her wrists ensnared and forced behind her back in one swift movement. 

"That's dangerous," he mutters, wildly out of breath. She whines at the distance between them when she leans forward in search of his lips again, but he leans back, forcing in a coolness to help simmer their heat before it boils out of control. 

"You should let me be the judge of that," she says in between heavy breaths. Kogami chuckles. 

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

Her eyes narrow with amused intrigue. "Interesting words coming from the man who was groping my ass a few minutes ago." 

Admittedly, he has no response to this, so he settles for removing a hand from her shackles to cup her jaw, distracting her with firm kisses on desperate lips until she seems satisfied--at least, as close to satisfied as she can get, because she comes back for more every time he tries to pull away. 

After another few indulgences however, Kogami is resolute, resting his forehead against hers. "We should get going soon," he says. 

"Right,” she says breathlessly. “Where are we going again?"

"To check on something I asked my supplier to look into." 

"For what?" 

He fails to suppress the smile creeping into his lips. "It's a surprise,” he says. Akane’s eyes widen in confusion. 

"A surprise...for me?" she asks, hopeful, but uncertain.

He nods, then glances down at her arms still held tightly behind her, then back up at her eyes. "Can I trust you to keep these to yourself if I let them go?" 

"For now," she teases. Then he begrudgingly releases her arms, stepping back so she can hop down off the counter.

It's nice to see her feeling more comfortable. Even if this is a new side of Akane he's never seen, she seems more like herself now than over the last few days. And knowing he's helped play a part in that makes him feel...nice. 

Even though he doesn't completely understand the complexities on her mind, he's starting to get the feeling she may finally open up to him with the way things are progressing so unexpectedly between them. There's something liberating about the way she loses herself in him, as though she's allowing herself freedom to relax as she's entangled with him, and it's not unlike how he feels with her body held in his hands and his mouth pressed against hers. It's times like these where their similarities become so undeniably apparent that it's no wonder the strange, magnetic pull between them hasn't wavered at all despite the fact that they've spent most of the time they've known each other separated on different continents and strung on different paths of life. 

Kogami isn’t a believer in random chances. Call it detective's intuition, or just the fact that history always mirrors itself time and time again, but with their paths crossing once more, Kogami has suspicions that he may end up involved in whatever obstacle it is that Akane is avoiding. 

But for now she seems relaxed, perfectly at ease distracting herself with him, and he’s not exactly in a place to complain about it. So he resigns himself to crossing that bridge with her when she's ready. 

**

Akane can feel his fixed gaze on her through the closed door, as though she's developed a sort of sixth sense to the feeling of being watched--perhaps from paranoia? At the very least, knowing that it's Kogami’s ever-attentive eyes waiting for her while he smokes on the porch, and knowing that it’s _not_ the follow-through of a certain verbal threat she received before she came to Spain, leaves her feeling much more at ease. 

But still, Akane finds herself wondering about this subtle change in his behavior. 

Kogami has always been observant, paying close attention to his surroundings, always looking for invisible, wordless details that tell the entire history of the room, speaking a language only he can understand. He probably doesn't think twice about it. But somehow, this behavior is different. 

Rather than a casual interest denoted by personal habits, it's as if there's more presence in his stare, but only when he looks at _her_ specifically. It's not only apparent in his act of staring in her general direction while he waits for her from outside, but also in the way he's studied her all morning; from when she stepped onto the patio and ventured over to him, to his suggestive glances when she humored his amusing desire to see her dressed in his clothes, to his dutiful patience of standing quietly by her side while she finished her book. 

Not to mention, the intensity of his eye contact when they were…enjoying themselves in the kitchen. A warm bolt shoots down to her core when she pictures his eyes again, just inches from hers, endlessly deep and consuming, coupled with his strong, ardent grip holding her anything but close enough--

"--What's taking so long?" Kogami shouts, his muffled voice sweeping in through the door. 

Akane jumps suddenly at his unexpected bark, freezing like she’s just been caught in the act. She hadn't meant to get so lost in thought, with her shoes pulled on only halfway and her coat draped readily over her arm. But with a shake of her head to dispel distracting thoughts, Akane hurriedly steps into her shoes and opens the door as she slips an arm into her coat, where she's met by a warm breeze that hardly compares to the intensity of his gaze when he sees her. 

"You won't need that," he says first thing, as soon as the door opens. He leans comfortably against a wooden column supporting the balcony overhanging the porch, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. The cigarette perched between his lips is burned almost all the way down to the base. 

"My coat?" she asks, closing the door behind her. 

Kogami nods. "It’s warming up pretty quickly. It'll be hot where we're going." But since she's already put the coat on, Akane figures she might as well keep it on. 

"If I get too hot then I'll take it off," she shrugs, smiling deviously as she steps closer to him. "And then I can make you carry it for me." He smirks down at her, lips curling around the cigarette in silent, but loyal agreeance, before he pulls the blunt from his mouth and crushes it in an ashtray behind him. 

A sudden curiosity falls over her right then, and before he can stop her, Akane lifts her hand to finger the sharp edge of his jaw. She lets her thumb trail lightly across the chapped ridges of his lower lip, then she stretches up on her toes, tilting his face down to her so she can place a string of kisses on his lips, seeking out the musky taste of his cigarette in its freshness. 

In all her years of lighting up his smoky scent for comfort, she's never known what it actually tasted like--until now, that is. She finds the taste isn't at all pleasant, but his plump lips are alluring enough for her to ignore it, sighing contentedly as his hand lightly holds her at the small of her back.

When she pulls away, falling back down to her heels, he asks, "How are we going to go anywhere if you can't keep your hands off of me?"

"You're the one in a hurry to leave," she says, sliding her palm down his neck to settle on his chest. "Not me."

"It'll be worth it. Trust me."

His eyes are warm and promising, making her smile. "Okay,” she says. Then she follows him as he steps down from the porch, their footprints leaving a dewy trail through the grass as they head for the bike waiting for them in the yard. 

**

Kogami was right about the heat.

It was nice to be covered during the ride, where brisk wind is inescapable and overwhelming after long periods of time. But once they arrive at the market, a large and open area baking under the sun, Akane is shrugging out of her coat, wiping beads of sweat from her forehead on the back of her arm before they even find a place to park. 

In the distance the crowd is bustling and loud, just as she remembers from her first trip to the market. But as it grows closer in their approach, Kogami's grip steadily tightens, signaling the return of his apprehension. It's apparent in his clenched jaw as well. When he pauses their walk at the edge of the square and turns to face her, he drops her hand and moves his grip to her shoulder.

"Wait here," he says with a stiffness in his throat. His eyes fight the urge to stare in suspicion at all the strangers around in the crowd paying little attention to them, forcing himself to look down into hers instead. "I'll be right back." 

She smiles confidently. "I'll be okay," she says. "Don't worry." His eyes close for a moment while he inhales to calm himself, and then nods at her when he’s ready. But before he goes, he does something rather unconventional that takes her completely by surprise, suddenly pulling her closer by the shoulder.

It’s only for a second, but his lips press lightly into her crown, sending excited butterflies to dance beneath her skin as she’s trapped staring at his collarbone, her face growing as hot as the sun above them. And then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. 

Maybe it’s due to the many strangers around her, or maybe it’s from the heat his parting kiss bestowed upon her, but to her surprise, Akane doesn't feel the strange cold return upon being left alone. Maybe it's because she knows she won't be alone for too long, or maybe it’s that something inside of her has changed since last night. Regardless, no matter the reason, she's grateful to be free of the icy tendrils for the time being.

The tables belonging to the booth closest to her, settled snugly into the corner of the square, catch her eye with their intricately-colored shawls and folded clothing. Wanting a better look at them, Akane makes her way over to pass the time, stopping to look at and appreciate each item. They all appear to be handmade, carefully sewn with impressively-detailed patterns. There's a floral scarf of muted colors with a striking splash of bright red that she picks up to study more closely, to see how it looks in the sunlight. For a moment Akane considers buying it as a souvenir for Mika, but suddenly, her attention is seized by the sound of someone shouting nearby. 

It's quick and shrill and then stops abruptly, as if it were being muffled, but Akane's reaction is quicker; her gaze shifts away from the scarf the second she hears the cry and instinctively faces where it seems to be coming from. That's when she notices a set of outstretched hands, reaching for freedom, suddenly disappear from view into an alley not that far from her. 

Immediately, Akane drops the scarf back onto the table. She doesn't bother checking to see if anyone else appears to have heard the commotion; she starts walking in its direction, dropping her coat to land in the dirt before she takes off running, heading for the alley. 

**

Kogami makes his way through the crowded square with relative ease. Most people take immediate notice of his skin color and above-average height, so they tend to shift out of his way before he can utter any polite requests to squeeze through. It's extra hot in the sweltering mass of bodies packed together, and he finds himself relieved once he breaks through the crowd as it disperses on the other side, enjoying a refreshing breeze as it passes through the market, cooling the sweat that had pooled behind his neck. 

At his usual booth, Kogami's supplier is laughing boisterously while he helps another customer, a tall, slender man who leans casually against the table top while they converse. When he notices Kogami approaching, he turns his attention away from the customer and throws a friendly wave in Kogami's direction, exuberantly calling him over. 

"You're alone today," he comments right away. "Where's that little doll of yours?" 

It's only a simple greeting, and yet the feeling of stepping on eggshells is already present.

"She's resting," Kogami says, then quickly cuts to the chase. "Got any updates for me?"

"On the equipment you're looking for? Nothing. Won't be in season until late spring. Try your luck then." 

Well there goes the surprise. Guess he'll have to think of something else. 

Kogami shrugs politely and turns his body so that he's facing the crowd, preparing to depart. "Thanks for looking into it for me."

"Not a problem. Hey, wait a minute," he adds once Kogami takes a step in the other direction, gesturing with his hand for him to hurry back. "You can't leave without telling me how your date went." 

Fuck. This is definitely not where he wanted the conversation to go. He can feel the drum of his heart picking up in pace as it clenches his throat. 

"It was fine," he says through tight lips. It's not quite the truth, as in reality it was much more enjoyable than he'd expected it to be, but Kogami doesn't care to engage in conversation for too long. Getting back to Akane is his priority. 

"Just fine?!" the man asks incredulously. "You’re lying. It was way too cute to just be _fine_. It had to have been better than that." As he turns his gaze to the other customer at the table, who has been watching their exchange curiously, it strikes Kogami that he and the merchant are referring to different things, confirmed as the man begins to describe to the customer, in unnecessarily vulgar details, Akane's appearance, using slang Kogami isn't familiar with--but the voluptuous gestures of his hands is all the context Kogami needs to know what he's saying.

His blood begins to pound in his ears, but he doesn't know what to say, or if he should bother saying anything. Akane is waiting for him, alone and in danger of people like _this_ wandering the market, looking for easy targets like her to snatch. The longer he stands here, the more his gut throbs with worry, urging him to get back to her immediately. 

But Kogami also can't stand to hear him talk about her like this. 

"How much for the gloves?" he asks suddenly, interrupting the conversation as he approaches the booth once more, gesturing to a small pair of gardening gloves at the end of the table. The merchant looks a bit taken aback by the sudden change in topic, but nonetheless, he picks the gloves up and pretends to look them over, though really he's eyeing Kogami with a malicious curiosity staining his eyes. 

"Twenty euros," he says. Then his eyes narrow, revealing a glint of condescension in his gaze as he stares up at Kogami. "Unless you want to work for them, that is. I'll throw in a gasoline voucher for you. One of my men didn't show today so I could use a hand." 

A sarcastic bark of disgusted laughter nearly bursts from his lungs, but Kogami represses it. The idea of working for this man after the way he was describing Akane--to a complete stranger, of all people--makes his stomach churn with bubbling rage. 

"I'll give you the twenty." The merchant frowns. Unconcerned with this apparent displeasure at his refusal, Kogami fishes out the bill from Akane's wallet and more or less punches it onto the table, then shoves the gloves deep in his pocket and turns on his heel to leave. 

He’s several steps away when he hears, "I hope your little bitch enjoys digging around in the dirt where she belongs,” and then Kogami stops dead in his tracks.

It takes every single fiber of muscle in his body to remain still. Kogami knows he’s only trying to get a rise out of him, to piss him off as a means of asserting some manner of control over him, like he’s been attempting to do since day one. But like the dishonorable coward he is, he went straight for below the belt. 

He may be a hound at his core, but Kogami is only unyieldingly loyal to one person, and it’s not the pathetic, stout man wearing a shit-eating grin as he turns around.

He’d like nothing more than to dig his nails deep into the man’s throat, grip him by his vocal cords, and rip them out through his skin like it’s nothing but paper. But he doesn’t. 

Instead, Kogami says, “The only reason you're still alive right now is because she wouldn’t want me to kill you." He leaves it at that, then stomps his way back into the busy market, unruly anger seething off of him like steam under the hot sun.

"I'm not someone to make an enemy of, Kogami," the merchant calls after him, his gruff voice already blending in with the muted roar of the crowd as Kogami’s back disappears into it. 

This time as he pushes through the mass of people, Kogami is less polite and in much more of a hurry than before, completely callous and numb to the many shouts of irritation thrown his way as he moves through. His fists tremble uncontrollably with adrenaline, with rage lashing about in his stomach, screaming for release. The need to hit something, _anything_ , is so strong that he might have to settle for hitting a wall a few times before he can cool off. But it can wait, as returning to Akane is a higher priority.

Which becomes a significant problem the second he breaks through the other side of the crowd and doesn't find her where he'd left her. He doesn’t find her anywhere, looking from side to side at the surrounding booths and in between tables and strangers meandering about. Akane is nowhere to be seen.

His stomach freezes over when he finds her coat lying on the ground near a table. Hurriedly, he kneels down and picks it up, where he notices a single set of footprints in the dirt that look to be Akane's size, that draw him away from the market as he follows their trail. 

They don't take him very far before the distant sounds of a struggle catch his attention, and when he recognizes her voice, he follows it, heading down an alley between two abandoned buildings not far from the market’s edge. 

As he turns down the alley, he's first greeted by a frightened young woman who, sprinting with tears streaking from her eyes, slams into his chest and falls to the ground with the force of their bodies colliding. 

Kogami staggers backwards, glancing down to see if she's alright, but she cowers away from him with a fearful shriek and her hands thrown up to her face to act as a shield. 

"Please don't hurt me!" she screams at him through her tears. "Get away!" 

For a fleeting second Kogami is confused, but his attention is immediately recaptured by the muffled sound of Akane's voice crying out in pain directly ahead of him. 

His gaze shoots upward and his feet instinctively carry him forward, stepping carefully over the frightened woman as he darts into the alley, eyeing the few semi-conscious bodies of men lying on the ground wielding broken noses and clutching their groins. A robust sense of pride at her handiwork passes through him quickly as he runs past, but his focus is fixed further down the alley, were he can see a few more men kneeling on the ground with Akane forced down on her stomach and her arms wrenched behind her back as one of them binds her wrists with rope, then quickly moves to her ankles. A rag is wrapped around her skull, gagging her at the mouth, and one of the men pulls out what looks like a needle and syringe from her thigh before a brown, cloth sack is shoved over her head.

Funny how he was _just_ feeling the need to hit something. 

As soon as she’s completely bound, the men notice Kogami approaching fast and take off, one of them throwing Akane over his shoulder with some difficulty as she struggles to break free. Despite this setback, he still manages to get away as the other three men suddenly turn around to challenge Kogami, blocking him from chasing after him. 

One of the men--the one who'd struck Akane with the syringe, he recalls--slips a knife from beneath his shirt while the other two take poorly-balanced stances, wielding fists in preparation to strike. 

All it takes is one sweep of his foot for Kogami to knock one of them over, and he lets out a pained groan as he lands with the wind knocked out of him on the ground. The second goon gets a swift set of sharp knuckles to the face that crushes his nose upon impact, the force of Kogami’s punch so powerful it knocks the man backwards into the wall, knocking him unconscious.

The one with the knife makes a swipe that Kogami dodges by jumping to the side, and is then abruptly caught by Kogami's air-tight grip on his arm, forcing the knife to drop from his clutch as his arm is wrenched painfully behind his back. The metallic sound of the knife clattering on pavement is drowned out by the man yelling in sheer agony as Kogami shoves his arm upward, until a satisfying _pop!_ fills his ears, echoing down the alley.

He's about to give the second arm the same treatment, but is interrupted by the first goon--the one with his nose intact--clambering to his feet in a second attempt to strike Kogami. 

So instead, he yanks the man around by his dislocated arm to act as a shield, ignoring his cry of pain, then shoves him forward to collide with the other and rams them both into the wall with such ruthless force, hard enough that a skull audibly cracks as they smash into the wall, and he falls still. Kogami doesn't stick around long enough to watch blood streak the bricks as they slowly sink to the ground.

Plenty of distance was made, considering the man is carrying Akane’s extra weight, but he's within eyesight as Kogami turns to chase after him down another alley, wielding the stolen knife gripped tightly in his clenched fist.

The man disappears around the corner of a building, but Kogami’s long legs carry him in rapid strides swiftly enough to stay hot on his tail, and he catches up to him fast. 

Kogami turns the corner and spots the man just ahead of him, who looks nervous as he glances over his shoulder at his assailant. In his panicked eyes Kogami witnesses a brief moment where the man weighs his options, and then he opts for dumping Akane's body on the ground and continuing to run in the opposite direction. 

But that doesn’t stop Kogami from chasing after him still, leaping over her body to quickly close the distance between himself and her attacker, until he’s within range to chuck the knife and send it sailing into the man’s back, hard enough that it lands with excellent precision and sinks deeply into his flesh near the spine. The man cries out in pain as he stumbles to the ground, falling into a limp heap.

With him out of the way, Kogami then hurries back to Akane, kneeling beside her on the ground. 

Sitting her up and supporting her limp torso with his knee, he yanks the sack from her head and throws it over his shoulder, finding her eyes closed and her expression neutral, as if she were asleep. Cradling the back of her head in one hand, Kogami taps her cheek a few times to see if she's conscious, producing no reaction, and when she doesn’t respond to her name, he hoists her body securely over his shoulder and heads back to the bike as quickly and discreetly as possible. 

**

It's strange, he thinks, the feeling of holding someone dear to you who cannot fend for themselves, how it fills you with a unique glow that cannot be replicated through any other means. The warmth of taking care of someone, of feeling needed, of protecting someone precious, is a warmth he hasn't known in a long time. The last he can remember is a period during his youth when his mother was sick and bedridden for weeks, but it's no longer familiar as it courses through his veins, like the feeling of wearing a suit tailored to fit someone else, like an old pair of shoes dusted off from the back of your closet that mold to your feet differently than you remember. 

Kogami wonders for how long he has felt this empty, and why it's taken him so long to notice. 

His attention is grabbed as Akane stirs while he carries her up the stairs, a quiet whisper escaping her; "Is Mom safe?" she asks. When he glances down at her face, he finds hooded eyes open just slightly, staring blankly ahead of her at nothing in particular with a sleepy glaze attempting to lull them closed again.

"Yeah," he says softly. Perhaps she doesn't hear him, since her expression doesn't change as her eyes draw closed. She doesn't stir again, even when he lays her down on the bed and tucks her beneath a blanket. But regardless, he feels better answering her worry, just in case.

With a sigh to focus himself, Kogami does a quick check of her vitals. 

A finger to her jugular shows her heart rate to be normal, but while her forehead feels incredibly warm to the touch, her breathing is slow and evenly-paced, and she doesn't appear to be sweating, so he isn't terribly worried about her temperature. He does notice, however, a small stain of blood in her jeans at the injection site on her thigh, and that worries him. So, with as much care as possible, Kogami leaves the blanket draped over her figure and slips his hands beneath to unfasten her pants, glancing at her face one last time just to ensure she isn’t awake, then slowly pulls them down her legs by the ankle cuffs one at a time with the delicacy of handling glass, holding the blanket in place to keep her covered.

The blood stain, which is still relatively fresh, comes out easily as he scrubs it in the bathroom sink under bitingly cold water, so he drapes them over the shower rod and leaves them to dry. He finds another pair of jeans in her suitcase without having to dig through it too much, and heads back upstairs with them in hand along with a first-aid kit.

Logic tells him he shouldn’t expect anything different, yet Kogami is strangely relieved to find Akane lying just as he’d left her, covered and unharmed. Perhaps it’s the underlying anger still coursing through his system, an unsatiated desire for spilled blood of those who did this to her that’s triggered when he faces the fact that she’s drugged and lying in his bed unconscious. Her eyelids don’t flutter like they do when someone is dreaming, and her body doesn’t twitch or stir in response to any noise whatsoever. She’s completely helpless in the wrong hands. 

But then he supposes that’s what he’s forgetting, that she isn’t in the wrong hands. Once he remembers this, he takes a deep breath, kneels beside the bed with the first-aid kit in hand, and gets to work.

**

The last thing Akane remembers is feeling like she can't breathe. There's something dark covering her head so she can't see, something dry shoved inside her mouth, and something bouncing roughly against her stomach, forcing the air from her lungs. Then she remembers jerking around with limited movements to free herself, and then she remembers a heaviness falling over her, blinding her each of her senses one by one until she doesn't feel anything at all, and she remembers wondering if she's dead. 

And then, Akane can hear a ringing sound in her ears. It's fuzzy, like quiet rainfall, but it grows softer and further away as long moments pass, steadily replaced by a rhythmic pattern of gentle, distant snores and an acute awareness of her fingertips and toes, then her limbs, then the rest of her body. Her eyes snap open, and she sits up swiftly. 

Expecting something a lot more dangerous, Akane is extremely surprised to find herself surrounded by the familiar, yet hazy walls of Kogami's room. Sunlight pours in from the windows of the double doors on the other side of the room but, in a way that she can't explain, something about it feels...off. But before she can think about it too much, upon sitting up the room starts to spin, and her head grows lighter and lighter as she clasps a hand to her forehead in a futile attempt to keep everything still. Her chest heaves uncontrollably with fear instilled from the memories of what was happening before everything went dark. How did she end up here? How long had she been under? Why does she feel as though she's dreaming? 

A shift in the bed's weight makes Akane notice that she isn't alone. Beside her, sitting on the floor and lying with his head in crossed arms on the edge of the bed is Kogami, who had been sleeping, but was awakened by her startled jolt. He quickly lifts his head the second he realizes she's sitting up. When their gazes meet, even though his eyes are brimming with concern, she finds it a little easier to breathe. 

"You're awake," he says. He moves from a seated position on the floor to stand on his knees beside the bed, leaning on the edge with his elbows. The mattress shifts again with his weight, throwing the room out of balance and making her head spin even faster. 

"...Am I?" she asks. The sound of her own voice feels fake in a way she struggles to explain. It sounds…far away? Like it isn't coming from her throat, but somewhere else? 

"Does your head hurt?" he asks. Even his voice feels distant, like it's hidden behind a heavy, wet cloud masking her senses. 

"I don't know," she says, feeling at a loss for words. She clenches her eyes shut but it does nothing to alleviate the spiral her head has fallen into. "Everything is spinning and it won't stop." 

The bed shifts again, the weight much heavier this time, and then her face is being brushed with something warm, something wet. Then she realizes it's a tear on her cheek being swiped away by his thumb, but she has no idea when she started crying or why. 

"You're safe," he says softly. 

"Nothing is real," she says, but once she says this aloud she starts to panic, terrified that she might have just spoken it into existence. 

She looks down at her trembling hands. They don't look like hers. They don't even feel attached to her body.

 _Am I real?_ she thinks. _Am I dying?_ Her throat vibrates as if she’s speaking aloud, but she honestly can't tell the difference. 

His thumb drops to her chin and turns her face towards him. 

"Look at me," he says quietly, tilting her chin so she meets his eyes. They look heavy, like he's terribly tired and sad, the kind of sadness felt deep down, weighing like lead in the darkest, ugliest pits of his gut. "I'm real, and you're real," he says. "You're not dying." 

But how can she believe him when nothing seems real or tangible? 

The next thing she’s aware of is being enclosed in his arms as he pulls her into his lap, which is shockingly sturdy and doesn't quiver erratically like her limbs, and it doesn't turn in endless circles unlike the rest of the room continuing on in its spiral, and it smells like his cigarettes. 

"I don't want to die," she mutters, but doesn't remember choosing to say it. 

"You're not dying," he repeats, and this time his voice isn't far away. It rumbles like low thunder right beside her ear, vibrating through his chest, floating somewhere right above her head, with his strong arms holding her in place against him so tightly that she feels out of breath, until he reminds her to breathe and she remembers how to fill her lungs. 

"What's happening to me?" she asks with a panicked, shaky breath that makes her voice crack. 

"I think you're hallucinating,” he says softly, his breath tussling her hair as he lays his cheek on her crown. “It will pass soon."

A few long minutes of comforting silence and focused breaths help to calm her nerves significantly. While the erratic spinning hasn't subsided, her panic brought on by confusion has dwindled, and she can keep her breathing under control, enough so that she feels comfortable asking Kogami to fill her in on what happened. The deep nodes of his voice are comforting as he recounts the specifics of her rescue leading up to just before she came to. However as he finishes, Akane has a feeling he intentionally left out some details, but she doesn’t question it as her primary concerns lie elsewhere.

"Did that girl get away?" she asks when he's finished. 

Kogami hesitates, but answers nonetheless. "I don't know for sure, but I think so."

"If she didn't then I'd feel really stupid."

"Why?" 

"Because then it means all of this was for nothing."

For some reason, Kogami laughs at this.

"I know you don't really think that," he says. "You saw someone who needed help, and you probably didn't even think about it; you just acted on instinct and ran over to help. _And_ you kicked some ass doing it. Whether or not she got away, you still gave her a chance, and you're telling me you believe that isn’t worth anything?"

It takes her a minute to absorb all of his words, but when she does, she answers with a defeated "no" that makes him chuckle. The sound of his laugh resounding in his chest, right against her ear comforts Akane, making her crack a smile, but it's short-lived as he stops to stay something else. 

"You're not the one who should be feeling stupid, anyway. It's my fault this happened, so if anyone is to blame, it's me." 

Which is a load of complete and utter garbage if you ask her. 

"That’s the dumbest thing you've ever said," she snaps. Seemingly taken aback, Kogami doesn't argue, doesn't say anything until she asks, "Why would you even think that?" 

He doesn't have an answer. 

"You're not responsible for what I do. I'm not some untrained puppy you left for a minute leashed to a pole." 

His arms tighten around her. "I know." 

"So then why would you think what I did is your fault?" 

It takes him a long time to answer, but Akane is patient and quiet as she waits for him to sort through his thoughts. 

"I don't think that," he finally decides. "I feel guilty, like I should have been there with you helping her. You should have seen the way she looked at me." He pauses there, and in the absence of his voice she can vividly hear his heart pounding beneath his ribs. "She was terrified,” he continues. “I came to help but she begged me not to hurt her. I know it's not my fault and that there's nothing I could have done to make her trust me, but I feel guilty."

Even though she's the one clutched in his arms, Akane now feels as though she's consoling him, instead of the other way around. 

"You were right," he says quietly into her hair. When he doesn't say anything more Akane asks for an elaboration, but he doesn't answer, and she doesn't ask again.

"Trust isn't something you force on people," she says after some minutes pass. "It's earned." 

"I know that."

"Then you should know that, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now, what you did is a step in the right direction. You attacked her attackers and it allowed her to get away safely. That doesn't mean she would trust you with her life, but if she saw you again I don’t think she would be scared of you. She might even thank you. I know I would." Then she pauses, realizing she hasn't actually thanked him for doing just that. But when she opens her mouth to do so, he cuts her off before she can speak. 

"Don't." Then, in a slightly more positive tone, "I should be the one thanking you."

"If I don't have to, then neither do you."

A quiet tension fills the room then, the strangely comfortable sign of a truce, and neither of them say anything else.

**

She listens to the sounds of Kogami fumbling around in the kitchen below with her eyes closed, fingers tracing patterns into the blanket to keep herself grounded. The spinning had finally worn off when she decided to lie down and rest for a while longer, but her mind races a mile a minute with far too many thoughts to keep track of without a spike in her heart rate, so focusing on soft fibers smoothing her skin and listening to the muffled, rhythmic clatter of Kogami cooking helps keep her calm. 

He had told her it wasn't her fault and she had told him the same thing, that it wasn't his, but deep down neither of them truly believed the other. Maybe there isn't any fault to be had, but what happened to her--or what _almost_ happened--isn't something she can pretend didn't happen. And just like how Kogami can't ignore his part in it, from leaving her alone despite knowing the dangers of doing so, Akane can't ignore that she was the one who insisted he do so, who told him it would be okay--or the fact that she was the one who chose to run blindly into the fray and got herself into such a dangerous situation. 

Though she prefers to avoid thinking too extensively about what would have transpired had Kogami not shown up when he did, Akane finds herself wondering about other potential consequences of her actions. In particular, she wonders-- _more like fears_ \--what would have happened back in Japan if she had failed to return home. 

The cold, robotic words echo in the back of her mind despite her great efforts to silence them, forcing a shiver to quake uncontrollably through her limbs. 

" _After all, you wouldn't want any harm to come to your parents, would you?_ " 

The blanket is crushed in her grip suddenly as she represses the conversation as far away from her thoughts as possible. It's not the time to think about it, and she doesn't have to accept its finality just yet. Her parents are safe. She's safe. There's still more time. 

Suddenly, an extra loud, seemingly-accidental clatter from downstairs, followed by an aggravated sigh and quick muttering of a rather colorful string of swears, distracts her. Feeling a bit more rested, Akane decides to welcome this distraction and go investigate.

She finds Kogami hovering over a pool of what smells like chicken stock on the floor of the kitchen, plucking small pieces of chopped vegetables from the liquid and dropping them into a bowl. His feet are bare, and his socks lying beside him appear yellow and drenched. 

"What did you do?" Akane asks, standing in the doorway and surveying the mess from a careful distance. 

"Dropped the damn bowl." A laugh almost escapes her at how disproportionately angry his voice sounds compared to how awkward and cramped he looks on the floor, kneeling over the mess and picking up vegetables, but she doesn't want to be rude and stifles it. 

"What can I do to help?" she asks. 

"Get me a towel." She nods and quickly heads for the bathroom, but as she enters and flips on the light, the first thing she sees is a pair of her jeans hanging from the shower rod. At first it looks like a dark shadow looming out of place, making her jump, but her surprise quickly turns to confusion when she realizes what it is. 

"What are my pants doing hanging in the shower?" she asks him when she returns from the bathroom, with a large, dingy bath towel in hand. He first thanks her as he holds up a hand, gesturing for her to toss it to him, before he answers her question. 

"Drying," he explains. "I scrubbed blood out of them."

"Oh," she says simply, her brow furrowing in confusion. The blood comment aside, she's more preoccupied with the fact that, if the pants she was wearing earlier are currently drying in the bathroom, it means the pair she's wearing now is different. But she isn’t the one who changed them. Meaning...

"Don't worry, I didn’t see anything,” he reassures, wearing a strange look of intrigue that makes Akane feel as though she’s been caught in the act of something. “You were covered the whole time.” 

As it dawns on her what he’s implying, all she can do is stand there, watching as he rises and drapes the towel over the spill, trying hard to not picture what it was like being undressed by him, what such an intimate act would be like now if he were to do it again, how his hands would feel sliding down her bare legs and leaving her vulnerable and exposed. Her heart rages in her chest at the thought, beating furiously and aching for release. 

It seems her face reads like an open book to him, for on top of his intrigue an extra look of piqued curiosity fills his eyes. Akane barely registers Kogami wiping the bottoms of his feet on the towel before he steps slowly in her direction. 

"Judging by the color on your face," he says, his voice a rough drawl that claims her undivided attention, "I'd say you're feeling shy." It's a bit odd for him to state the obvious, since he's previously been kind enough before to ignore these embarrassing little details, but her thoughts on the matter derail as she becomes increasingly distracted with how closely he--and the large, alluring muscles of his exposed forearms--approaches her, before he stops directly in front of her in the archway, leaving minimal distance between them. 

Akane finds the frame digging into her back as she unconsciously moves away, trapping herself in search of air that isn't suddenly too hot from his body heat or too tense for her to breathe, but it doesn't offer much cushion to his intensity as he closes the distance with a single pointed finger resting in the soft space between her collarbones. Slowly, very slowly, Kogami drags his finger down, brushing over the neck of her shirt and forcing an eruption of butterflies from within her as he passes between her breasts and drops to her stomach. Her breathing becomes embarrassingly staggered and rigid as his finger dances over her navel, and then he comes to a stop when he can feel the top of her jeans just beneath his fingertip, where it rests silently as the seconds tick past one after the other. He says nothing else until Akane finds it in her to crane her neck and look up at him curiously, frozen in place and otherwise unable to move. 

His eyes are dark and thrilling, and they stare down into hers as he asks in a low voice, "Does the thought of being undressed by me excite you?" 

For some reason Akane can’t explain, she feels compelled to answer honestly.

"Yes," she says quietly, her voice shaken with breath.

For a long moment, neither of them speak. Akane isn't sure what else to say, still rendered motionless at the point of his finger hovering dangerously close to the button on her jeans, and Kogami looks surprised to hear her confession, like he had his suspicions but hadn't expected her to actually say it. Surprised, but pleased. 

His lips spread into a thin smile, softly contrasting the storm in his eyes locked behind bars of careful restraint. 

She longs to unlock them, and she can tell he's thinking the same thing as he glances down between their bodies, eyeing their proximity, the neck of her shirt, her lower stomach where his hand hovers. 

"That sort of attitude could land you into trouble," he says slowly. 

"Is that supposed to intimidate me?" she asks. Her sassiness draws him closer, until he's got one hand gripping the frame somewhere above her head, leaning down with his mouth next to her ear. 

But just as he prepares to say something, Akane’s stomach lets out a growl, reminding them of what they're interrupting. 

"That was just the wind," she quickly says, knowing it’s probably with futile effort but trying it anyway.

"You know I can tell when you're lying, right?" 

Though his voice is rough as he draws hot breath in her ear, she can't help but laugh. "If that were true, then you'd know all my secrets by now." This gets him to pull back a little, just far enough to meet her eyes. 

"You think you don’t have any tells?" he asks.

"What are tells?" 

"Subtle physical and behavioral signs that reveal deception." She ponders this a moment, glancing down at his chest for breathing room from his intense gaze.

"If I have them, then what are mine?" she asks.

"Now why would I tell you that?" 

And just like that she's dumbfounded, her mind going blank as every single possible word for a reply disappears all at once, and she’s left with absolutely nothing to say. So his question goes unanswered. 

"Besides," he adds with a smirk, clearly satisfied by her silence. "I can't read your mind."

Somehow she finds her words again. "That's not true either. You do that all the time."

For a moment he looks confused as to what she means, his inquisitive brows furrowing while he searches her eyes for understanding, and then something clicks, and his expression softens.

"You should keep resting," Kogami says finally, before he places a kiss on her forehead that makes her heart flutter like a bird trapped in her chest. His lips, soft and warm, don’t part from her skin until she relaxes a little, until her shoulders slump and her jaw unclenches, and when he does he wears a smile as warm as the crinkles lining his eyes. "Sorry your food is taking so long."

Then, very slowly, his hand retracts, freeing her from his single-fingered cage. He turns and heads down the hallway towards the stairs, leaving Akane breathless and dazed as she stands there listening to his footsteps retreat, leaning hard against the frame to support her weight on suddenly-shaky knees. 

For a long minute she simply stands there with her eyes closed, focusing on taking slow, deep breaths to calm her nerves and her racing heart. She can’t help but think how, judging by his rather unexpected behavior, it seems there is a lot more to Kogami beneath all of his layers than she realized. It's nice to not have to pry them out of him for a change. 

**

All flutters of excitement are long gone by the time the evening settles into shadows. The only source of light comes from the kitchen where Kogami cleans up after dinner, the brilliant moon in the sky too thin a sliver to shed any of its glow to the yard where Akane's distracted gaze is focused. With a mug full of quickly-cooling apple cider held to her chest, Akane's eyes are fixed on the slope of the hill outside, trying to visually separate where the dark grass differentiates from even darker trees waving in the distance, watching for… well _what_ , exactly, she doesn't know. But she can't help staring out the window, lost in watching and waiting for nothing in particular. 

It doesn't go unnoticed by Kogami, who upon entering the room takes immediate note of her tense body language, as well as the untouched cider. He takes a second to follow her gaze out the window into the night, surveying the dark, windy night outside. Almost instantly, he puts two and two together. 

"Would you like me to reheat that?" he asks quietly, hoping to distract her. She turns her head, raising a brow quizzically as though she hadn't heard him properly. 

"Hm?" 

"A reheat?" he repeats, gesturing to her cup. Confused, Akane glances down at the mug in her hands, surprised as though she'd forgotten it existed. Then she gives him a small smile and hands the cup to him. 

"Sure." With one last glance tossed out the window, finding nothing out of the ordinary, Kogami disappears back into the kitchen. Minutes later he returns with the heated ceramic in hand, handing it to her as he sits down beside her on the sofa. Akane takes it with quiet thanks.

"Something on your mind?” he asks. Her gaze returns to the window, and a long moment passes in silence, his question hanging in the air while she searches for the right words. 

"You said that guy knows where you're living, right?" she asks finally. Her voice is unusually shaky, strained even.

"My supplier?" he asks. Akane nods, and he begins to wonder where this conversation is going. "Yes, he knows." He notices the muscles in her throat constrict as she swallows nervously. "Why?" 

"Do you know if he's involved with the people who…attacked me?" The fear hidden beneath her voice makes him sad, like a promise to her was broken that he had forgotten to make. It is, of course, his fault. But while he wants to comfort her, he also can’t bring himself to lie.

"It's a possibility, but I don't think so."

"So I shouldn't be worried about a round two happening in the middle of the night?" she asks, voice twinging weakly with meager hope. 

Absolutely not, he’d like to say, because if anyone were stupid enough to try he’d murder them the second they walk through the door. But he can’t say that. That would mean admitting to such atrocious acts that he once swore he would never commit again. It would be the same even if he were to say a second attempt is unlikely considering half the people involved in her attack are probably still lying dead on the ground where he left them to rot. He can’t tell her that, either. Even though she already knows how low he's capable of sinking, how much blood he’s stained his hands with in the past, Kogami doesn't yet have the courage to own up to his sins to her face. He can't bear the shame she'll undoubtedly wear when he does. 

So instead, Kogami just shakes his head with resolute certainty, hoping it's enough to convince her without further explanation. 

"No matter what happens you'll be safe," he promises, somber, determined eyes boring into hers. "I won't let anything happen to you." He'll be damned if he does a second time. 

However, unbeknownst to him, Akane already has her suspicions about what happened, which are nearly confirmed by the way his eyes darken in his hesitation to answer, and even more so when he grimly promises her safety. But, remembering the way his arms had trembled around her frame while admitting his guilt, Akane doesn't feel a need to press him for details. If he wants to talk about them then she will listen, but she won't force him. 

So, his compelling confidence is enough to relax her, and she turns pointedly away from the window while she takes a comforting swig from her hot cider to calm the frenzy his promise had sent her heart into. 

That's when she notices that she's drinking alone and offers him a sip, which he politely declines. But Akane insists that she can't finish it all on her own, so Kogami gives in, taking the cup from her and helping himself to a few warm gulps, and when he's finished, he holds the mug in his hands to stare at the amber liquid settling inside for a moment before quietly handing it back to her. 

"Is there something on _your_ mind?" she asks, thinking it's about the topic they were just discussing. But when his answer is something else entirely, Akane is admittedly blindsided. 

"Are you worried about your parents?" he asks. 

How did he know? Was it that noticeable?

Naturally, this brings back the dreadful, icy memory she had successfully repressed, forcing an involuntary shiver down her spine that, inadvertently, answers his question. Though it's an innocent one, and though it isn’t his intention, suddenly Akane feels backed into a corner. 

If she answers honestly, which she wants to, Kogami might expect some elaboration that she isn't prepared to give. But if she doesn’t then it means shutting him out yet again. She already hates the idea, but after what they experienced today, the idea of lying to him makes her sick to her stomach. Akane desperately wants to tell him the truth, so badly that even the nagging voice in the back of her head telling her _she can't_ is overwhelmingly drowned out by the aching in her chest to unload everything she's been carrying alone for years. 

If he's willing to listen, why shouldn't she tell him? 

_Because it could get him killed_ , the little voice says, clawing its icy tendrils down the back of her neck like the haunting nails of a phantom. It refuses to let her forget this fact, it seems.

But...what if he already knows that? It’s not exactly a difficult jump to make, considering her profession and the dangers they’re both well aware of that come with it. And besides that, what other reason could she possibly have to keep something from him, especially when she's had plenty of chances and invitations to tell him? 

"Why do you ask?" she counters, hiding behind the mug as she takes another sip. It's not an honest admittance nor is it a lie, but a safe middle ground. Dodging a question with another question. 

"Something you said while you were unconscious gave me the feeling you might be," Kogami says, suspicion about her choice to avoid answering evident in his tone. Though she’s curious to know what she had said, Akane knows he won’t let the antic slide a second time if she tries to ask.

So she sighs, admitting defeat. "Yes, I'm worried about them. But I can't tell you why." 

"You can't, or you won't?" 

This is where he snags her, and where she knows with certainty that Kogami _is_ aware of the risks, at least to a degree. She’s already told him once there will be consequences she isn’t ready to face if she tells him, but she didn’t elaborate on what those consequences are. This is his way of trying to figure that out, because if the clarification doesn’t matter to him, he wouldn’t be asking. 

But it does matter, and he is asking. If she _won’t_ tell him, it’s because she doesn’t want to. Which isn’t the case at all. And if she _can’t_ tell him, it’s because there are either dangers involved to anyone she lets in on her secret, or there are potential work-related repercussions she would be facing if she did--only they both know she’s too high up on the CID food chain for any consequences to be severe, _and_ she has a history of sharing confidential case information with him without even hesitating--so that leaves the danger the truth poses to him if she tells him.

So, he knows. Akane is sure of it. He knows, and yet he’s asking anyway because he doesn’t care. He knows that whatever it is weighing her down and chasing her across the world, it’s dangerous, and he doesn’t want her to face it alone if she doesn’t have to.

She could tell him right now. She could tell him everything. 

But what does she say? She can’t just drop it all on him like, ' _By the way, the Sibyl System is a collective of live brains from criminally-asymptomatic psychopaths like Shogo Makishima, and they will stop at nothing to keep their rule over Japanese society_ ,' and hope for the best. No matter which words she uses, Kogami will never be the same. A secret of that magnitude shatters one's perception of society and forces them to see the entire world through a new, painfully complicated lens. He would be confused, he’d have questions that Akane doesn’t have answers for, and there’s no doubt he would get angry; learning that the society he grew up in, that the life he lived was forged around a decades-long societal lie, one that he had a hand in enforcing for years, would deeply upset him to lengths she can’t possibly imagine. And selfishly, a small part of her worries he might even get angry at her for keeping something so colossal from him. 

And then what about after that? How would she even begin to tell him what's going to happen when she goes home? If she tells him that much, he would be absolutely enraged. What words could she possibly use to calm him down, to convince him she’s making the right choice, to convince _herself_?

Once she reaches that point in her train of thought, it’s as if a switch flips in her head, a striking moment of clarity that hits her like a train. 

She knows, with certainty, what she should do.

"I’ll tell you," she concedes, “but not yet.” She isn’t ready for the storm of emotions that will come when she does.

Clearly this promise isn’t what Kogami expected to hear, as his brows raise in surprise. A minute spent studying her expression for traces of uncertainty turns up nothing, and once he realizes that she’s serious, he nods, signaling to her that he’s more than willing to wait. Immediately Akane feels as though a weight is lifted from her chest--partial, not whole, but remarkable all the same. It reassures her that she's making the right choice to tell him.

"So,” she asks, desperate to change the subject, “what was that surprise supposed to be?" 

Kogami’s eyes dart up from staring at her lips, watching them move as she speaks, and then he looks at her with disappointment turning the corners of his lips downwards.

"You recall that drop off that leads to the beach," he asks, though he says it more like a statement than a question.

"Yes." 

"Well I was looking into the equipment we would need to climb down the cliff. But unfortunately rock climbing isn't in season so there isn't any equipment floating around for sale."

"Well, that would have been fun," she says with a thoughtful smile. "I've never done anything like that before." 

“I didn’t think so,” he says, offering a half-smile in return. Then he reaches for the mug, plucking it from her hands to steal another drink. The brief brushing of their fingers catches just a little more of Akane's attention than normal, making her glance down at the exchange with the threat of pink crawling under her cheeks. “But it's fine. I’ll find something else to surprise you with.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re on vacation. You should be enjoying yourself.” 

And just like that, as he sips from the mug, Kogami can't help but marvel at how easy this is, how natural it feels to sit so close, sharing a calming drink together as they talk into the night. He could sit and talk with her like this all night if she wanted. The simplicity of it all, with her no less, is something he never would have imagined experiencing again in his lifetime--not since he left his old life behind all those years ago, and Akane along with it. This sense of ordinary with her is foreign, yet somehow distantly familiar at the same time. 

A similar thought must be on her mind, as suddenly Akane takes the cup back from him to set it on the table, and utterly surprises him by climbing straight into his lap without any warning.

This time it's his turn to feel a heat form under his skin, his face warming at the sight of her straddling his thighs. Perhaps it’s not that noticeable, or she's simply kind enough to leave any teasing comments unsaid, her brown eyes as sweet as chocolate as she folds her arms around his neck. 

“I am enjoying myself,” she promises, a hint of a smirk hiding in her smile.

Her sudden embrace compels him to mirror her, allowing his arms to find comfort as they wrap around her, as gentle as one would trying to embrace a sheet of tissue paper without crushing it. She leans forward, nestling her head in the crook of her elbow, and then a contented sigh tickles his neck, their chests pressed against each other as tightly as two halves of a magnet that have just come back together. 

Perhaps it's lingering exhaustion from recovery of today's events, but this too feels natural, ordinary even. And Kogami finds that once he relaxes, allowing himself to enjoy her weight, the beating of her heart, and the warmth her body radiates against his, he could do this all night too. 

"It's been a long day, hasn't it?" she asks quietly, after some time. 

"Yeah,” he agrees. 

And as they sit in ensuing silence, Kogami watches steam slowly waft from the apple cider until it grows still and cold.

Eventually she gets her fill, and Akane lifts her head and sits up straight, letting her hands rest comfortably atop his shoulders. His grip follows suit, settling comfortably on her lower back. 

Even though they're sitting in darkness with only dim light pouring in from across the room, she can see his slate eyes perfectly as they stare back into hers. 

"Thank you for taking care of me," she says suddenly in a low voice, barely above a whisper. Never a man of too many words, Kogami answers with the corners of his lips pulling up ever so slightly, lips so close she can make out their chapped ridges even in the dark. "I know I don't have to," she adds, "but…it's nice knowing I can trust you with my life."

He's only joking when he says it, but as his brows slant in a feigned look of offense, he asks, "You didn't already know that?" Which is a fair question, seeing as trust between them has long since been established and built upon even further over the last few days, coupled with how he's always been protective of her, risking his safety for the sake of ensuring hers. Moments like being thrown to the ground and shielded by someone else's body from flying debris aren't easily forgotten. But with the way today unfolded, Akane learned that there's a big difference between simply placing trust in someone who's earned it, and truly having that trust tested in practice, outside of words and promises and faith. 

"I guess I have a better understanding of what that really means." 

Following her words Kogami's eyes soften, cobbled gray melting like molten silver to be forged into armor, fueled by the intensity of his stare. It's powerful enough to stifle her breath hitched in her throat, to thrum her heart like an endlessly-pounding drum. 

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Akane asks quietly. 

His brow furrows. "What do you mean?" 

This question stumps her. She finds most often that the expressions on Kogami's face are ones she can understand in a single glance, not needing verbal supplements or explanations to know what thoughts lurk around in his mind. But this one is different. It's confusing. Attempting to describe it is like trying to describe a wild dream devoid of logic, whose details fade as quickly as they're remembered and don't make a trace of sense the moment they're spoken out loud, imaginative impossibilities that can't be understood by anyone else no matter how thoroughly one tries to explain them. Akane is sure that if she were to utter aloud the words, ' _You're looking at me like I'm the only person in the world_ ,' she would just sound silly. Devoid of logic, making no sense, imagining impossibles.

No, she quickly decides, Kogami wouldn't think that. Anyone looking at her with such an intensity as his, such a presence that craves to slither into the cracks of her guarding walls and longs to drown at the bottom of her pool of secrets, but latches onto careful control in the form of steel fingers absentmindedly grazing the hem of her shirt, could never think such a thing like that. 

What was that phrase he used to say? Something about impossibilities and losing one's mind?

"Maybe I'm just going crazy," she says, only it comes out in a whisper that tickles his lips. As her fingertips begin to tingle, Akane realizes his face is a lot closer than it was a second ago, thanks to one of his hands creeping up her spine with the gentlest touch that urges her closer. His intense gaze quickly becomes too much, and her eyes slip shut to avoid their burn. 

"Or your assumptions are incorrect," he mutters. Their noses touch, brushing against the other as softly as her hands feel when they curl around his neck. 

"Are they?" she whispers back, and though she isn't entirely sure why the words slip from her tongue, nor what they mean, it doesn't matter. A long moment of baited breath warms his face, before the smoky husk of his throat finally draws her in and her lips close softly around his as they meet halfway, drawn together like string closing tightly into a knot. 

For a moment Akane wonders if this is all a dream, being wrapped in such a bliss that she’s never before felt, never held by the strongest pair of arms that hold her so delicately, as though any wrong move too sudden or too harsh could snap her in half, and at the same time she’s never felt safer, never felt so _alive_. The slickness of his tongue slipping into her mouth lights up every nerve in her body, making her gasp excitedly, eliciting the tiniest of noises from her that she didn’t know she was capable of. And the groan he lets out as she wraps her hands around the back of his neck, pulling so tightly to his chest that she finds herself sitting atop the growing bulge in his pants, leaves her craving more. 

They pull apart to catch their breath, eyes finding the other instantly. In the few seconds that pass before they come crashing back together, all the unsaid words from over the years pass between them in one glance that changes everything, and when they meet in the middle once more there’s an underlying certainty that wasn’t there before. Akane’s question, the one whose meaning she doesn't fully understand, is silently, and undoubtedly answered. But her thoughts are far past that now as his hand suddenly dips beneath the hem of her shirt, dotting her skin with a red-hot trail of fingertips that prompts her to raise her hands above her head. Kogami retracts from her lips just long enough to pull the shirt free and toss it aside carelessly, coming back to them with a hunger that mirrors hers as she knots a hand in his hair, gripping with a fervency that grows tighter as his hands skirt along her skin, burning her curves as he memorizes the shape of her beneath his palms.

She can feel his erection throbbing beneath her when his mouth starts to explore, dipping from her lips down to her jaw, where Akane instinctively tilts her head to give him more room. She clutches his bicep as he kisses the sensitive skin tenderly, slowly making his way down to her neck, where she gasps at the sensation of his warm, full lips gently sucking her skin, tingling fingers tightening in his hair, pulling out a low groan from his throat that makes her quiver as it vibrates through her neck to her ear. When he reaches the sweet spot in the crook of her neck, Akane is all but done for as a hot bolt of fire shoots straight down her center, letting out a small moan as she melts into his chest. An amused chuckle warms her shoulder as Kogami takes precise note of her reaction. 

“That’s not fair,” she mutters.

“What, that I just found your weak spot?” he murmurs against her neck. She can feel the smirk on his lips as his mouth closes around her skin again, this time sucking harder without mercy, relishing in the delighted cry that escapes her as her fingers curl with pleasure. 

“Tell me where yours is,” she demands.

“That’s now how this works,” Kogami mutters, promptly ignoring her request while continuing his assault on her neck. Her demand is quickly followed by a surprised gasp when he dares to snag her skin lightly with his teeth, then another small, pleased cry that encourages him further, his hands holding tightly to her bare torso until one of them reaches up to slide her bra strap out of the way so he can leave a trail of small bites down her shoulder. He doesn’t get very far, as Akane, with growing impatience, suddenly yanks his head back up to hers so she can kiss him fiercely with feverish lips, stinging his scalp delightfully in the process. 

But then Akane surprises him, realizing she may not know his weak spot but she is aware of the leverage she certainly has as her hips start to move, grinding herself against his erection in slow, blissful strokes, effectively making him groan in pleasure to the point of breathlessness. Eventually they break for air, but it doesn’t last in their desperation to get even closer to each other, to be free of barriers, to give into every primal urge threatening to burst beneath the surface, and one silent glance is all it takes for Kogami to rise, holding Akane to his chest and supporting her with a hand happily groping her ass, stepping forward in the dark as she thrungs her legs tightly around his waist, hoping with all his luck that he doesn’t trip or fumble on the stairs as she kisses him hungrily with hot lips and grabby hands. Her back slams against the door moments later while he distractedly works it open, and then the soft bed cradles her shoulders as Kogami leans onto it, laying her down beneath him.

The force of his mouth on hers very quickly becomes dizzying as Akane struggles for air, stunned by the blinding rush of his heavy weight on top of her, crushing her into his bed, her hands trembling with adrenaline and excitement, her fingers tingling with fiery nerves. With a gasp for breath, she can finally breathe a minute later when Kogami frees her mouth to attack her jaw, strong hands suddenly collecting her wrists to pin them together above her head into a single iron grip, and a firm thumb on her chin forces her head to the side to give him ample room as he kisses the creamy skin of her neck, slowly moving down to the crook where it smooths into her shoulder. Very gently, Kogami sinks his teeth into her weak spot, thoroughly enjoying the small tug against his chains as she cries softly in pleasure, and then absolutely _savoring_ the delicious moan she elicits when he tenderly sucks on the skin, leaving him craving more. He repeats the pattern, biting gently as she squirms in his hold and following his bites with soft strokes of his tongue to soothe her skin, drawing from her a series of mewls and pleased whimpers that make his cock throb painfully against his confines.

But her sounds aren't loud enough for his liking, nor are they the ones he craves to hear. So Kogami abandons her neck in favor of what lies below, slowly making his way down to her collarbone and kissing the skin there for a moment before moving further south, releasing her wrists when he passes between her breasts, lightly squeezing them with his hands as they trace her figure on his way down her body. Akane’s chest quivers excitedly with staggered breath once he reaches her stomach, lips kissing down a sensitive trail as his fingers slowly undo her fastens and hook inside, carefully peeling away the clothing, dragging them down her thighs, exposing her heat to him fully. He places an especially soft kiss on her scar once her clothes are discarded to the floor and he’s settled comfortably between her legs, and then he dips his head and gets to work.

He starts first with a few, slow swipes of his tongue, taking pleasure in the relieved cry Akane lets out the second he touches her, but it’s still not what he wants to hear. Ever a fast learner, Kogami spends the next few minutes studying her, paying careful attention to which techniques she likes more, testing soft and slow strokes over her slit versus fast swirls of his tongue around her clit, diligently memorizing what draws out her sweet moans that stoke the fire in the pits of his stomach, burning for more. Once he has an idea of what she likes best, Kogami tightens his grip on her thighs and spreads them wider, opening her up to him even more as he sinks into her, his tongue sliding through her slick folds and sucking her clit and kissing her all over until she’s a moaning, breathless mess in his hands, her hips aching for more friction as her voice steadily raises in pitch. And when Akane suddenly convulses, a stolen glance from between her legs shows an arm draped lazily over her eyes, coupled with a dropped jaw from which she cries, and her other hand scrunches the blanket in a tight fist beside her. He keeps his strokes gentle until she finally relaxes, her chest heaving, shaky thighs falling limp in his hold, and then he parts from her heat with one last kiss before crawling back over her figure to move her arm aside and take her mouth in his.

He kisses Akane softly this time, parting her lips gently with his to let her breathe. Trembling fingers gripping his shoulders and tugging at his shirt remind him he’s yet to undress, so he takes a moment to sit up and yank his torso free of the barrier. Immediately her hands burn their imprint in his skin when he comes back down to kiss her, red-hot fingers caressing the bare muscles in his back, dousing each of his nerves with liquid fire as her touch strays further down his spine. Her lips are as soft as her nails lightly grazing his sides, sliding down to his stomach and tracing the prominent lines of his abs appreciatively as she dips a hand to his belt. This time Kogami doesn’t stop her, not even as she unfastens the buckle and slips her hand inside. 

A soft, timid stroke of his cock is met with a gentle bite on her lower lip, relief flooding through him as she sates his throbbing ache with her touch, and before he can stop himself he grinds into her hand, a low groan spilling from his lips as she takes the hint and squeezes his thick length firmly, a small, satisfied smile curling her painted cheeks as he pulls away to rest his forehead against hers, eyes closed while he relishes in her firm strokes. 

It doesn’t last long. As soon as Akane begins to find a steady pace, Kogami reaches down to pull her hand free from his trenches, dropping it somewhere near her head. Then, slowly, his thumb traces the lacy edge of her bra over the swell of her breast, trapping her gaze in his as his hand dips below her arm around to the back, where he’s assisted by Akane arching her back and allowing him enough space to unclasp her last article of clothing and slip it from her shoulders. His own final barrier finds itself on the ground a moment later, and then he’s positioning himself between her legs with a thumb stroking her jaw tenderly, dark eyes boring down into hers, swimming with as demanding an appetite as him, while Kogami slowly sinks himself deep into her slick heat.

Immediately Akane’s mouth falls open silently as he fills her to the brim, stretching her opening blissfully wide. Her fingers harden against his shoulders as she clings to him, desperate for more friction, so Kogami pulls his hips back and then thrusts back into her just as leisurely as before, earning a loud, satisfied moan that’s like music to his ears. He then takes on a steady rhythm, falling into the depth of her eyes as she stares back at him, reveling in the hot feel of her wetness surrounding him, tightly squeezing every inch of him while he fucks her slowly.

“Shinya,” she whispers with need, her soft voice tugging at something wedged deep inside his chest that pulls his face down to hers instinctively. He parts her supple lips upon meeting them, cupping her jaw in his palm as her moans become muffled, which tugs at something much more carnal, something trapped down in the pits of his stomach. It urges his hips to move faster, encouraged further by her nails digging sharply into his shoulder blade, by her thighs spreading even further open for him, by her knees clinging to his waist. Each thrust pushes deeper inside her, stoking the fire rumbling within him, doused with each cry of hers that rips from her throat, accentuated by her fist gripping his hair and the headboard smacking the wall over and over again. Scratching down his back makes his blood sing, and then his teeth are sinking into her shoulder, and her gentle voice whispers his name again as he climaxes. The fire bursts, exploding all throughout his limbs, reaching the ends of his fingers and toes with a hot flame coursing through him as his heart pounds erratically in his chest. It dissipates slowly, charring his skin, and when he opens his eyes he finds hers clenched shut, mouth agape as though she’s skirting on an edge of her own. A few more rough thrusts is all it takes for him to push her over, and then he’s treated to watching her soar blissfully through her second climax, her chest arching into his for a long moment before she collapses, legs quivering at his sides.

Her eyes finally flutter open when his thumbs brush aside her bangs, damp with sweat, her jaws cradled delicately in his palms, only to close again as Kogami lowers his face to hers. Her knees unhinge when their lips meet, soft and slow, breaking only when Akane nudges his shoulders back, pushing him away. He pulls up a little, an arched brow speaking his question for him as their eyes find each other.

“Get me some water?” she requests in between breaths.

Kogami smiles. “You could say ‘please.’”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” 

An excitable tension fills his stare as his smile drops into a smirk. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, holding her gaze intently as he climbs off her until he reaches the door, disappearing into the hallway and down the stairs. While he’s down there Kogami collects the abandoned mug and moves the table back into place, which had somehow gotten kicked askew in the midst of things. Most likely his doing, but he honestly doesn’t remember.

He returns to find Akane, still sprawled out naked on the bed, hasn’t moved an inch, with the exception of her head turning in his direction as he enters the room. Upon seeing him an exhausted smile lights up her gorgeous eyes like the shallow, burning flame of a candle, which draw him to her as though she were pulling on an invisible leash embedded deep in his chest. 

Kogami wonders, as she lies beside him with an elated grin slowly fading with the threat of sleep taking over, if Akane is aware of her power, or if it's a secret he's lucky enough to keep for himself before she inevitably figures it out. 

His annoyance with it on the first day seems so long ago in retrospect with how far he's come now, with how easily she chipped away at him without even trying, digging out the corpse of a man she once knew from beneath thick patches of ice, a man he hasn't known since that evening in the field when he pulled the trigger and changed his life forever. 

But then again, he shouldn't be surprised. Akane Tsunemori is, after all, a remarkable woman. 

**

_A few hours later_

Her bare feet step into the pond, meeting the inky surface with pointed toes that dip with caution, testing the water before sinking into its murky depths. 

Tiny ringlets dance away from her ankles, disrupting the mirror image of knotted, black branches stretching overhead. 

Clumps of mushy dirt squeeze in between her toes as Akane wanders forward, deeper into the pond, but a downward glance shows nothing except her pale face staring right back at her, surrounded by pitch nothingness. 

She notices the edges of the pond disappear once the water reaches her thighs, when the uncanny feeling that she's being watched from behind forces her to spin around, yet she finds nothing but shadows that outstretched hands and fingers can't reach, though they hover low over the water like fog, curling towards her with smoky tendrils. So she turns back around and lets the fog urge her deeper into the pond.

The first body surfaces with a stream of murky bubbles escaping from the dirt. Akane jumps, gasping in fear as she realizes what it is. 

A shaky, curious hand reaches out, gripping the waterlogged shirt to roll the body over, to get a look at the face, and then she shrieks with grief. 

It's her mother. 

She snatches her hand back like she's been badly burned, staring with disbelief at her mother's dead, rotting face, staring with glossy orbs at something behind her, approaching with a chilling haze that Akane can feel tingling at the back of her neck, until she lunges forward in the water, splashing like mad to get away from the cold. 

The water is up to her waist when the second body emerges, bursting upright from beneath the surface directly in front of her. Her father's face, crawling with flesh-eating insects, leaves Akane screaming as she dashes around his corpse, throwing a glance over her shoulder at the cloud of shadows chasing her, rolling over the water with ease. The dirt at the bottom turns to mud, sucking her bare feet in place as she scrambles to get away, and then she trips over something long and heavy, dislodging it from the mud as she passes over it; when Akane turns around to look, the body drifts facedown on its stomach with the familiar frames of Kaori's glasses floating silently beside it. 

Suddenly, as the water rises to her chest, Akane is distracted from her frantic splashing by a small stream of dripping water just ahead of her. She looks up to find the source of the dripping, finding a single thick branch overhead that appears to be leaking. 

As she gets closer, Akane holds out a palm to catch a droplet from the stream. It stains her hand with a deep scarlet color that's hot to the touch. 

All of a sudden the branch snaps, crashing into her skull with an enormous weight that shoves her down under the water, trapping her against the floor as she flails fruitlessly to get free. 

Even though the water is an inky black, when Akane opens her eyes in desperation she can make out the shape of what's holding her down at the bottom, and her heart wrenches painfully when she recognizes his cold, emotionless face hovering over hers. 

Tears well in her eyes as she cradles his jaws with both hands, a sob ripping from her chest before she's harshly reminded by frigid water invading her lungs that she's underwater, making her violently trash about to free herself from Kogami's crushing weight. With a final surge of fright she shoves him off of her, standing desperately to break the surface, coughing furiously and spurting water from her aching lungs. 

And while her guard is down, suddenly Akane feels an ice cold blade slicing the skin at the base of her skull, and a frosty set of fingers slipping into the incision. 

Then her eyes snap open, and she's met with Kogami's sleepy, parted lips huffing a warm breath in her face, blood throbbing in her ears as her heart races dramatically. He has an arm draped lazily over her waist and he snores softly, a stark contrast to what she was just witnessing before she opened her eyes. 

It was just a dream, she realizes. A terrifying one at that. 

Despite this realization, the creepy feeling of being watched seems to have followed her into consciousness, as it floats about the room somewhere behind her. 

Slowly, Akane turns over to search the darkness for anything out of the ordinary, like a pair of eyes or wispy clouds of fog lurking outside the balcony doors. But she finds nothing. 

Her movements must have jostled him a little in his sleep, making him stir, as right then his arm curls tightly around her stomach and pulls her closer to him, her back to his front. It's enough to make her relax, especially as his hot breath warms the back of her neck, but it isn't enough to erase the gruesome images from her mind, so she doesn't fall back asleep until after the sun rises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone wondering, Akane was injected with a high dose of ketamine, which is a common "date rape" drug that typically lasts around 1-2 hours and has a variety of side effects. Akane is experiencing a few of them, including confusion, hallucinations/feeling in a dream-like state, and dizziness. It takes a little bit of time to fully pass once she regains consciousness, but she's fine! 
> 
> On another note, if there is anything in this chapter that _should_ have been properly warned at the start where I mention potential trigger warnings that I _did not include_ , please let me know through a private message on tumblr so that I can add it. Considering the violent nature of the Psycho-Pass series I expect that most readers are relatively comfortable with seeing similar violence and gruesome themes in fics, but then considering some of the topics I've chosen to write about in this fic, I know that's not a safe assumption to make. 
> 
> While I try to use blanket warnings so as to not spoil anything, sensitivity is my priority. I want to make sure nobody reads something harmful to them that they're aren't expecting or prepared for, but oversight happens and different things can trigger different people, so just let me know. Your privacy will be respected. 
> 
> That being said, thank you for reading, and thank you for your patience with my updates ❤️


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